


With a Witcher

by allfandomnolife



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Death, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Murder, Non-Canonical Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:15:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22666132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allfandomnolife/pseuds/allfandomnolife
Summary: Geralt is a man of many talents. Being oblivious is one of them.A story in which kindness and compassion leads to heartache.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 39
Kudos: 179





	1. Chapter 1

She missed him deeply. It wasn’t like she was not used to being alone but rather that being with the person she loved brought comfort and eased some of the loneliness. As such, she hated when Geralt was not by her side. She also missed the family he had created for himself and, in turn, her.

Her little cottage in the forest was quiet, like usual, but the chill made her miss the Witcher. The cold bed was unpleasant without the large man’s body. Even with the fire roaring behind her, she shivered. Most pressingly, though, it was empty. She missed having her hair played with and not having to chop the wood herself.

Without him, she always cooked too much. She constantly brought extra food, enough to feed half a dozen people as she never knew when Geralt would be back with Ciri, Jaskier and, of course, Roach. Sadly, fresh produce had a habit of rotting and in winter, no crops grew. She tried to cook as much as possible before it rotted but then the food would grow old in the pot she cooked in.  
In spite of the fact that she was alone, she still left a bowl of water on her front door for Roach and left the bundle of hay behind the door. Sometimes Geralt would get back before dawn broke but other times she would see him upon her return from the market. It was easier to have everything prepared in case of their return.

She didn’t intend to fall in love with Geralt. Quite the opposite, in fact. Upon first meeting, she thought that he was a brute. It was as if all he knew was to kill and maim and injure. She was wrong but he still insisted that it was all he knows.

It was even stranger that he fell in love with her. She did not expect that to happen. Not after their first proper departure. She was happy that she had him, though. He was a kind man. He would not admit it but he would show it without intending to. He was gentle. At first, he had to consciously be so but it had slowly become natural to him. It was heightened when he found Ciri. It then increased when he fell in love with her.

* 

When she first met him, he had just fought at the local brothel. The fight continued into the forest where she lived. He claimed that it happened in self-defence and that he was wrongly accused of theft. She hated when things like that happened. The outside didn’t feel as safe after it happened and it disturbed her sleep.

When she was rudely woken by the sound of screaming and fighting, she sought out the Witcher and screamed at him. She remembered the moment clearly. She was barefooted and ran towards him. ‘You brute! You had disturbed my evening.’ She had heard much about the white wolf but was stunned by his looks. The Witcher stood tall and broad. His white hair was messy and splattered with blood and he looked back at her with cold, amber eyes. She was enamoured by him.

The Witcher only replied with a grunt which angered her more than it should have. It may have been, in part, due to her attraction to him. She didn’t understand what it was about him that made her so attracted. ‘You are so rude. You just came here, caused a fight and didn’t even apologise!’ She threw her arms up into the air exasperated.

‘Don’t assume things, little girl.’ His voice was merely above a low grumble and she felt more aroused as he stepped a little closer to her. His hands still around the reigns for his horse. ‘You don’t know anything.’ He dipped his face even closer to hers and her breathing shallowed just a little. It was still enough for him to notice, though.

She clenched her fists wanting nothing more than to punch him. Luckily, she was smarter than that. It would have only led to her breaking her fist against the mountain of a man. ‘Don’t call me a little girl, you brute.’ She barely got the sentence out through her gritted teeth.

‘Why don’t you fuck off back home, little girl?’ Geralt sneered and got closer to her again and she found it infuriating. He turned away from her and pulled on Roach’s reigns. She was too angry to shout after him and retired back to her cottage.

* 

The morning after she first met Geralt, she had the displeasure of running into him again. Only, he was beaten and bloody. His hair was bloodied with what she hoped was the blood from the night before. Upon further inspection, his hair was still damp. Fresh blood.

He recoiled from her touch but she quietened him and continued her inspection. He was bleeding from multiple places and she decided to invite him back to her home. ‘I can sort myself out perfectly fine.’ He huffed out and winced as he moved his arm up. ‘I don’t need your help.’ He moved to get Roach and she didn’t miss the fuck he muttered under his breath.

‘Don’t be so fucking stubborn and let me help you.’ She crossed her arms and took Roach’s reigns. ‘Let me help you.’ 

‘Don’t touch Roach.’ He grumbled. ‘What, am I going to follow you to your home and you try and kill me in my weakened state?’ His lips curled into a cruel smile but she didn’t relent.

‘As much as I wanted to try and kill you last night, this morning, you are beaten and bloody.’ She tried to reach for him, again and again, he recoiled from her. ‘I’m just trying to help. You can leave after that. I promise.’ She looked at him solemnly and hoped that he would accept her help. He eventually relented but his cold, amber eyes did not once soften. Instead, he seemed to be even more cautious. His suspicion noticeably increased the further that they went into the forest. 

‘Where are you taking us?’ She was surprised that he spoke to her so much, or argued, even considering she had heard that he was more of the grunting type.

‘My home.’ She gestured at the cottage in the distance. Geralt was holding onto his still bleeding side. In spite of his accelerated healing, the wound was very serious. ‘It’s not much further. You can trust me.’ She opened the door for him and gestured at him to sit on her bed as she started a fire and went to collect some clean water which she boiled. 

‘Why are you doing this?’ Geralt grimaced. He had lost a lot of blood and she knew that he needed some urgent help.

‘To spite the rest of the village for also waking me up last night, I guess.’ She shrugged her shoulders and collected some potions and clean cloth to bandage him with. That night she looked after him. She tended to his wounds, fed him and washed the blood from his clothing.  
Much to Geralt's surprise, she had also looked after Roach. She gave the horse water and some vegetables that she had spare. She had taken a liking to the beautiful horse and Geralt did not stop her from grooming his companion. 

‘Who are you?’ His question startled her. She did not expect him to care enough about her but he raised his eyebrow when she did not respond straight away. 

‘I’m Y/N.’ He smiled at her. ‘Why do you ask?’ It was her turn to raise her eyebrows at him. He was a little taken aback but expected her to ask him.

‘You knew my name so it was only fair that I learn yours.’ His voice was husky and he tried to get closer to her but she stopped him. He was too injured to exert himself. She was disappointed that she could not be closer to the Witcher but he was not in any condition for anything more than resting.

Geralt refused to sleep in her bed and opted for the floor. It was the most chivalrous thing that he could do. He found himself becoming a little fonder of the fearless and argumentative woman. She had scolded him for sleeping on the floor ‘in his state’ but he threatened to leave if she did not return to her bed. She made him promise to be mindful of his injuries and to wake her if he needed some help.

He was gone once she woke. A bag of orens was left upon her table and she sighed. To say that she was disappointed that nothing happened between her and the Witcher was an understatement. More than anything, though, she hated that she would not seem him again.

* 

She was wrong, though. He returned multiple times over the following months. A friendship grew and each time she fell for him more. To her surprise, he didn’t visit her when he was hungry or tired. Initially, he wanted to thank her and then he started to open up to her.

The first time he returned, it was early spring. She was collecting herbs to dry for medicine. She needed to stock up as much as she could before the summer heat killed them and then she’d have none for the winter. She also needed to plant some more food. She raked the soil and planted rows upon rows of peas and carrots.

She then tended to the lambs and sheared the sheep. She had more than enough wool for the next few years and so she would take some to the market the following morning. Her chicks were close to hatching and she collected some of the newer eggs for breakfast.

She was in her own mind, thinking about the handsome Witcher and she swore she could hear his voice. It was strange because she had started to forget it. She remembered that it was deep and alluring but in no way would she be able to remember it as clearly as she heard it.  
When she turned around, she saw him. Roach was tied off to a tree on the other side of her home. She only knew because she heard the faint whinny of a horse from behind her. ‘Geralt?’ She scrunched her eyebrows unsure if he was really in front of her. 

She smiled when she heard the grunt in response. ‘Why are you here?’ She wiped her hands against her dress. It didn’t bother her that it was covered in soil. It happened every year and she was used to it.

‘There was a bruxa in the next village over.’ His voice was just as gruff as she remembered. His hair was long past his shoulders and his sword was still slung behind his back. ‘I was cutting through the forest and remembered your house.’ he scratched the back of his head and followed her back inside the cottage.

‘It’s a pleasant surprise.’ She gestured towards the chair. ‘I didn’t think that I would see you again.’ She added a few more logs onto the fire. The air was still nippy and her dinner was still cooking. ‘You didn’t need to pay me for helping you, you know.’ He shook his head as she poured him some ale which he graciously took from her. ‘I was just passing through.’ He tried to brush it off but he knew that without her there was a genuine chance that he would be dead. Maybe it was a better fate than being alive but he was grateful nonetheless.  
‘Would you like to stay the night?’ Geralt was reluctant to take up her offer but relented upon her insistence. She took some spare cloth and made him somewhere to sleep as he again refused her bed. ‘Stay for breakfast tomorrow.’ In his sleep, she placed the bag of orens in his pouch before she tiptoed back to her room. She cringed when she made a little noise which caused him to stir just a little. 

When she woke, he was still there. He had chopped some wood for her and started boiling some clean water. ‘Good morning, Geralt.’ She was still sleepy and a little shocked that he was still there.

‘Good morning.’ She put a pot over the fire and went to collect some more eggs. When she returned, Geralt had cleared the floor of his blankets and smiled at her. She took some tea and made them both a cup before she made breakfast. ‘Thank you for letting me stay the night.’ His voice was gruffer than usual which was likely due to the time of day.

She took a bowl and filled it with cold water and a few carrots. Last time she noted that the horse loved them. She pushed it towards Geralt. ‘For Roach.’ He nodded and took them out for his trusted horse.

She served up breakfast for them both. ‘You’re not very subtle, you know.’ She jumped in surprise and turned towards him in confusion. ‘I heard you last night. The orens were a thank you. You didn’t need to return them.’ She looked back at him embarrassed. ‘It felt wrong to take your coin.’ He extended the pouch of coins back towards her and she shook her head. She closed his hands back around the money. ‘I wanted to help you and I know that you don’t always get paid for your kills.’ She smiled at him. ‘If you want to thank me, keep the coin and come back to visit when you can.’ He hummed in response. It was not his signature grunt but rather one of agreement. He liked the idea of seeing her again. He then had to go. She hugged him tenderly and he was uncomfortable with such a light touch. It was unusual for people to be gentle with him. Then he left.

* 

The more he visited, the more he told her more about himself. At some point, he brought Jaskier with him. It infuriated Geralt that both she and Jaskier kept singing that ‘stupid fucking song.’ It didn’t deter them, instead, much to Geralt's displeasure, the signing had increased tenfold. 

She did, however, spend a lot of time brushing Roach’s mane and cleaning her. Geralt appreciated that she looked after them all. He was not used to such kindness or companionship. Subconsciously, he spent more time with her and had started to help her around the house. She still refused to take any money so he repaid her in labour.

He always made sure that there were plenty of logs chopped for the fire and that he would fix anything he could as she was usually too busy to do everything. Geralt would also always bring something for them all to eat. It would usually be deer or venison or whatever he could find in the forest.

Like how she made Geralt some bedding, she did the same for Jaskier. She liked the bard. He was funny and sweet but she still had eyes for Geralt. She even made it obvious that she was not interested in Jaskier and tried to give some indication to the Witcher. It posed useless.

Whilst she was disappointed, she did not hate the company. It was nice for her to speak to someone that responds. She had spent many a day speaking to her animals. In the time between Geralt's last visit, she acquired a cat but it did not ease the fact that she barely spoke to people.

* 

The next time he was with her, he brought Cirilla. He explained to her that she was his destiny. The young girl was sweet and polite. Geralt was protective of her. He acted like her father and it was a sight to behold.

Again Geralt helped her by chopping wood and hunting as she went about making more bedding for Geralt's ever-expanding family. The princess helped her sew. She was good at it and it was nice to speak to another female. It was a long time since she had done that.

Since it was winter, she made a thicker blanket for Cirilla. She was grateful that Geralt chopped wood for her as it was an especially cold winter that year. She had gone through so much wood that it seemed as if she was chopping wood every week.

Jaskier whittled more bowls and spoons for them all. He sat in a corner whilst Geralt was hunting and the women were brushing the wool. Eventually, she left Cirilla, who insisted she calls her Ciri, to continue making the blanket as she prepared the vegetables.

She insisted on slaughtering a lamb for the stew but Geralt adamantly refused that she did so. ‘You can sell it at the market. We are already staying here, we are not going to eat your livestock too.’ it made Jaskier grumble and she knew that Ciri was also upset but she nodded and agreed to cook only the deer Geralt caught. It was clear that none of them had eaten non-game meat in a while.

They sat in a circle on the floor. Hot stew and tea warmed their bodies as they listened to Jaskier telling stories of their travels. She listened intently, uncomfortable when Jaskier mentioned all of Geralt's injuries. Nonetheless, she enjoyed the stories. She brought out ale for them all and Geralt had to stop Jaskier from drinking too much and ‘taking advantage of your good nature.’ She insisted that Ciri sleep in her bed and that she would take the floor. She was fine with it as she was near Geralt but it was not something she admitted.  
Before they all fell asleep, Geralt added more wood to the fire and her cat curled at the Witcher’s side. It was fond of him and she did not know why but she liked the sight of her little tabby next to the famous Geralt of Rivea.

* 

On his next visit, he told her about Yennifer. His ‘true love.’ It shattered her heart when she heard that. Geralt was enamoured by her. He told her about how powerful she was. He told her about Yennefer’s beauty and intelligence. He was adamant that she was the most beautiful woman he had seen since he left the school of the wolf.

She fought back tears. It was the first time that they had spoken to each other alone for a while and she wanted to hear about his travels but not of his love for another woman. ‘I’m happy that you found her, Geralt.’ She gave him a smile that did not meet her eyes and picked at her fingernails.

He did not understand why she seemed so sad but he did not want to push her any further. She was so happy when they first arrived and he didn’t think that her mood had anything to do with Yennefer. There was no way for that to have been the case in his eyes.

Ciri and Jaskier were playing in the river near the cottage. She was certain that Jaskier brought his lute with them and that they were singing some new ballad that he had written. She was relieved that it meant that she had a little more space in her little cottage.

When the pair came back, they were aware that she was unhappy but she reassured them that she was just a little unwell and needed some space. They asked Geralt why she was upset but he had no answer and so they ate dinner in awkward silence.

* 

It was even worse when he brought Yennefer with the rest of his make-shift family. She was stunning. There was no way that she would be able to compete with the sorceress in any capacity. 

She didn’t know what to do. She wanted to turn them all away but she couldn’t be rude. Not like that. But also, she missed Ciri and Jaskier so much. Her cat missed Geralt so much. When he sat, she curled up on his lap waiting to be stroked.

She was lost. She knew that if she kept letting Geralt be in her life she would be hurt. She would be jealous, spiteful and, cruel. Yennefer tried her hardest to talk to her but she couldn’t bring herself to be friendly. She also knew that she could not let go of Geralt. He was the first man that she had felt anything for. He was handsome and strong unlike many of the men that she had met before him. He was also kind unlike what she had thought of him to be when they first met.

She valued him being in her life. More than she had initially expected. It was unusual for her to form bonds as true as the one that she had with him, Jaskier and Ciri. She did not want to lose them. In some sick, twisted way, she felt like they were her family. Deep down she knew that they weren’t but she liked them being in her life.

She knew that she would have liked Yennefer if she were not with Geralt. The sorceress was witty and loyal but she couldn’t stand that she had Geralt. The one thing she had ever wanted in life. It was infuriating.

She had tried to convince herself to be happy that Geralt was happy but it ate at her. Why could he not be happy with her? She didn’t have the beauty or power of Yennefer but she knew him first and that should have meant something or so she thought. She knew that she was being unreasonable and inhospitable. Her mother would be so disgraced by her actions but she did not know how to stop the feelings of anger inside of her.

By that point, Geralt was acutely aware that something was wrong with her. He noticed how she would be cold towards Yennefer for seemingly no reason and it made his blood boil. They were meant to be friends yet she was so cruel to his true love. He hated it.

Geralt confronted her the way he would a creature. ‘Are we not welcome here any longer?’ His voice was cold and it took her aback. She had not heard that tone since they first met. She spluttered in confusion and Geralt expanded. ‘You have been cold towards Yennefer and you have not been the same the past few visits. I assume that we have overstayed our welcome.’ She couldn’t look him in the eyes. Those amber eyes she loved so much that did not love her back. She fought to stop the tears from falling in front of him. ‘If you don’t come back, please take the blankets. I have nobody else to accommodate for anyway.’ Her voice was barely above a whisper and he walked away.

Ciri and Jaskier said their goodbyes to her before they left. Neither of them knew why they were not coming back or why she was acting differently. Ciri had a suspicion but she did not share it with anyone. 

She kissed Ciri’s cheek and then embraced Jaskier. ‘Look after yourselves, and look after each other.’ She pushed Ciri’s hair behind her ear. ‘You’ll be a good queen, one day, princess.’ She couldn’t fight back the tears as she saw Geralt leave without saying goodbye. Roach cried a little, not used to not saying goodbye to the woman that took them in periodically.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunion

The seasons changed and they did not come back. She grew lonely and sad. Eventually, she accepted that they would not come back and that she would be on her own from then on. It took her a lot harder than she thought that it would, knowing that she would be alone forever. By that point, she had become a hermit. The only time anybody saw her was when she was at the market to sell her excess food and wool. Even then she wouldn’t stay for long. She would only go to get what she needed to be done before hiding back in her cottage.

She did not form any more relationships with anyone. It was her and her animals living in silence. She was heartbroken without them but she knew that it was her fault that she had lost them. The silence she loved before she met them became deafening and there was nothing she craved more than to hear Jaskier sing or for Ciri to laugh.

In her home, there was still Geralt's blanket. He left it when he left but the others took theirs. Even Yennefer took her’s which was a surprise. The blanket still smelt like him but she was not sure if she was just imagining it. It had been years since they last visited.

She hoped that they were still alive and well. Geralt was in her thoughts every night when she closed her eyes and he was the first thing she thought about when she awoke. His face and voice had started to fade from her memory and she didn’t know if it was a blessing or a curse.

She knew his features, the bum chin, white hair and amber eyes but she could not remember how his eyes would crinkle when he would smile or what his teeth looked like. She only remembered him in facts and not features. She missed him dearly. He brought so much light to her life and she had to accept that the light was officially put out.

* 

It was dusk when she heard a series of loud thumps on her door. She grabbed a knife and opened it slowly. In front of her was Geralt. He was bloody and livid. Jaskier was behind him and Ciri behind them both. She was atop Roach and her eyes were bloodshot. She had been crying. Y/N could tell from the small hiccups from the princess.

‘Why are you here?’ Her tone was sharp towards Geralt. She let Jaskier and Ciri in but kept the Witcher at the door. She turned to address Jaskier. ‘Please could you get some water for Roach. She must be thirsty.’ Jaskier instinctively found the bowl and the water. She had not changed anything since they left. ‘I asked you a question, Witcher.’ her voice still dripped venom as she awaited an answer from the man that broke her heart.

‘Please can I come in?’ he looked her in the eyes. They were pleading with her to go inside and have some refuge. Jaskier awkwardly passed them and set down some water for Roach. ‘I will tell you everything.’ She stepped aside for him to enter. Despite how angry she was at him, she knew that they all needed her. For what reason, she did not know. One thing that she noticed was that Yennefer was not with them. She did not want to bring it up and opted to wait for one of them to explain it to her.

She put a large cauldron of water to boil and collected some rags and soap to clean them. She started to clean the princess and nobody dared speak. Geralt and Jaskier cleaned themselves in the deafening silence. Once the blood was wiped from Cirilla’s face, Y/N stood up to get more water to fill a tub for Cirilla to bathe in.

Jaskier left to clean Roach. She knew that Geralt would not usually allow for him to touch his companion but they both knew it was so they could have some space to talk. 

She sat away from him and would not look him in the eyes. Instead, she preoccupied herself with washing the bloodied rag she used to clean Ciri with. ‘You’re inside now.’ She kept scrubbing at the rags between her hands despite knowing that the stains would no longer come out. 

‘Explain yourself.’ Geralt look wrecked. His eyes were sad and he could not seem to face what had happened. ‘I’m sorry we came here.’ his head was in his hands. ‘We had nowhere else to go. Nowhere Ciri felt safe.’ She looked at him. Pity filled her up. Something was very wrong.

‘Geralt.’ Her voice was soft. She said his name tentatively like she was testing how it sounded against her tongue. She thought it constantly but she had not said it in years. ‘Talk to me.’ He found her voice to be a welcome comfort. It was something he missed over the years.

He didn’t lift his head. It was like it was too heavy and too much effort was required to do so. ‘Yennefer is dead.’ She put the cloth back into the water and closed the gap between them. He leaned against her chest looking for some comfort. ‘I had to pull Ciri away from her body.’ He didn’t cry but she could feel the tension inside of him.

‘I’m so sorry.’ She whispered into his head. ‘Wait here for a second.’ She stood up to empty the water and replace it to clean Geralt's hair. He was reluctant at first but found solace in their old routine. ‘Hold still.’ She washed the blood out of his hair as he recounted what happened leading up to the death of Yennefer.

* 

Ciri was the first one to notice the danger. Nilfgaardians were nearby and everybody was fairly injured. Yennefer has exhausted all of her energy. Tissaia would be ashamed that she was not able to control the chaos and her emotions the one time she needed to the most.

She sacrificed herself to save them. Geralt could only watch in horror as Yennefer’s body fell to the ground. She was bleeding from her eyes and mouth. He tried to get to her but he was knocked to the ground by Ciri’s cry. 

The earth shook beneath him and he saw Ciri run towards her adopted mother. Geralt slowly got up from the ground and made his way towards them. Ciri kept shaking Yennefer and in doing so got herself covered in blood. 

With the threat gone, they spent a bit of time with Yennefer before they decided to bury her. Jaskier stood away from them to let them mourn. They stayed like that for hours until the sun began to set. With darkness came danger so they had to leave.

Geralt tore Ciri away from Yennefer’s grave and put her on Roach’s back. There was only one place he knew that he could go. If he was welcome was a different story.

Ciri had told him why she thought Y/N was so mad. Geralt wished that he realised that himself before he left without saying goodbye. If she had said something, it probably would have been a lot easier. 

He could only hope that Y/N would be willing to let that find refuge in her home. It was far away enough that they would be safe and Geralt knew that he could trust her. She knew all of them and she loved them. All of them apart from him he knew for sure.

* 

‘Can we stay here for a while?’ Geralt lifted his head to face her. She only nodded in response and gave Geralt the blanket he left behind. She then went to give Jaskier some clean water for Roach and then checked on Ciri.

She returned to Geralt and said ‘you can stay for as long as you’d like.’ She then left the Witcher to his own thoughts. She started to prepare for the night with them all there.

She prepared dinner for them all. Since she sold all of her overstocks, she had to kill one of her lambs for dinner and go into her grain stocks. In the end, there was enough food to fill the cauldron before she went about getting more water.

Unsure as to whether Jaskier and Ciri kept their blankets, she went about making some more. Luckily, she sheared her sheep that morning. However, it was a gruelling task to brush it out. After about an hour, she had brushed enough for roughly half a blanket. 

Ciri joined her on the floor. The princess started to turn the wool to yarn on the loom. She asked Jaskier to help her. She was a sweet girl that wanted to distract her friend from the guilt they all felt. It also made it quicker to make the blankets.

Jaskier got the hang of it quickly. She was sure it was because he needed to occupy himself but nobody said a thing. Ciri got on with turning the yarn to blankets as Y/N continued to brush the wool. They sat there for hours bar Y/N occasionally getting up to stir the stew.

Geralt was outside somewhere. She assumed that he would be sharpening his swords or looking after Roach. That was fine. They were all grieving and she would be there for them. She looked outside for him and went back in when she could not see him.

She had finished brushing the wool and went to Jaskier. ‘Would you like some help?’ She looked at the distraught boy. He really looked younger than his age and shook his head. She let him be after that and tried to find something else to do.

* 

It was mid-winter and so she could not tend to her garden. There was no point as nothing would survive the bitter frost. She opted to find Geralt and see how he was coping. 

She found him behind the cottage chopping wood. The pile beneath his feet kept growing as she stood watching him. In the end, she decided that instead of just watching him swing the axe, she would take some wood inside for the fire. 

He watched her sneak blocks of wood from under his feet. He felt her watch him before but could not face seeing the pity in her eyes. It was the same look that people would give him when they got over the fact that he was a Witcher and realised his mother left him at birth. He hated pity. He didn’t need it.

‘If you keep this up, you’ll chop down the whole forest.’ She placed her hand on his arm to stop him from swinging the axe another time. She then gave him a small, concerned smile and sat down on the damp grass. She pats the ground beside her, encouraging him to sit down. 

He did so obligingly. ‘Thank you.’ He barely spoke above a whisper but his voice was hoarse like he had been crying. Or more likely, screaming. She shook her head and let him know that he has always been welcome in her home. Even when he thought that he wasn’t.

‘Would you like to talk about it?’ It was his turn to not say a thing. He simply shook his head and so they both sat there with the wind biting at their skin. 

Neither knew how long they were out there for. They only returned indoors due to the moon rising. It was more than time for them to have eaten. She hoped that Ciri and Jaskier had eaten beforehand but she doubted it. They loved Yennefer and had likely lost their appetite.

Regardless, she tried to make all of them eat just a little. She poured them ale to help them drown their sorrows. The alcohol helped encourage them to eat a little more and that pleased her. 

After dinner, she cleared up after all of them. She insisted that Ciri slept in her bed and took a space on the floor with the men. She knew that sleep would not come easy to any of them but she still lay down the blankets and fed the fire. 

She knew that they were all tired from the fighting and travelling so she brewed them all cups of mint tea. She heard Ciri crying so she went to her bedroom to try and calm the princess down. Sobs wracked her body and Y/N stroked her hair. She alternated between ‘I’m so sorry’ and ‘you’re safe here.’ Eventually, Ciri calmed down enough to take some deep breaths in. Her body was still shaking but it was significantly better than before. 

‘Do I still have any of her blood on me?’ The voice was weak. It was nothing like the powerful princess she watched grow. Y/N ran her fingers through Ciri’s hair, careful to look at each part she took. Once she covered the hair, she looked at Ciri’s neck.

‘No blood, sweet child.’ The girl pulled her into a tight hug. ‘It’s time for you to try and get some rest. It’s been a long few days.’ The princess pulled back to look at her and shook her head. Ciri’s eyes were glassy yet cold. The horrors she saw were reflected in them and her pain looked deeper than Geralt's. 

‘Yennefer was like my mother.’ Silence fell between them. ‘My mother she died at the hands of Nilfgaard. My grandmother died because of them. Yennefer, my adopted mother, died saving me from them.’ Y/N had no words. Nothing would be able to console the girl so she pulled Ciri into another embrace. 

Sobs again wracked her body and Y/N could only try to ease them. ‘How many parents will I have to say good-bye to?’ Y/N gently rocked the princess until her cries were hiccups. She braided the younger girl’s hair and soothed her until the tears were no more. She stayed with the girl until she fell asleep.

Y/N left the room and closed the door behind her. She tried to be as quiet as possible on the off chance that any of the guys were asleep. Much to her pleasure, Jaskier was in a deep slumber. Geralt, however, was not. He seemed to be trapped in his own thoughts. He idly pets her cat and sat in her living room. It was quiet bar the crackling of fire and Jaskier’s low snores.

* 

‘Can we talk?’ She startled. Geralt didn’t even look towards her but he stood as she approached him. She nodded in response and he gestured at her to wait for a bit before he left her house. 

A few minutes later, he returned with a stick which he lit in her fire and gestured that she follows him outside with the last of her ale. He had built a mini fire where he dropped the burning stick. They sat on a dry log beside the fire.

She couldn’t help but notice how his eyes mirrored the glow of the fire in front of them. As if he could not be more beautiful, she was proven wrong. She was glad that her dress had long sleeves as it was not the best weather to be outside.

‘Why are we here, Geralt?’ She was the first to break the silence. He had tied up his hair in the time that they were outside and it just let her see his features a little better. She tried to stop her voice from wavering but failed.

Geralt looked at her. An unreadable expression was on his face. ‘I just wanted to talk.’ a breath hitched in her throat as her stomach filled with dread. What did he want to talk about? ‘I wanted to talk about us.’ to say that she was filled with dread was an understatement. 

She wanted to crawl up into the ground and escape the intense stare fixed upon her. Regardless of the freezing air around her, she had started to sweat. ‘what us?’ her voice wavered much to her despair. She intended it to sound level and almost bored. ‘there is no us.’ he looked away from her. 

He should have known that she would not be the welcoming, loving person she was those years prior. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t let you speak before we all left.’ She felt anger grow in the pit of her stomach. How dare he walk back into her life when his was going wrong? If it were anybody else she would not have let them in yet Geralt had a hold over her. 

‘Right. And you’re only back because you need my help?’ she didn’t want to give Geralt a hard time since he was mourning but she could not help it.

‘You were hardly being welcoming to Yennefer.’ His face fell when he said her name. Y/N regretted provoking him. She reached out to rub his arm and his body froze at the touch. ‘It was clear that you did not like her and did not want her here.’ 

‘We don’t need to talk about this now.’ Regardless of her feelings, he was grieving for someone he loved. She knew that a part of him would always love her. But it wasn’t about her. It was about Geralt and helping him. ‘We don’t have to speak unless you want to.’ 

He was surprised. It was the most tender she had been to him since he returned. He looked at her. She was sincere. There was no trace or mocking or anger towards him. Just kindness. ‘What if I want to speak about it?’ She sighed but nodded for him to continue. ‘I missed talking to you.’ 

She visibly gulped. A knot grew in her throat. How was she meant to comprehend what he said? Those five words meant more to her than the sum of each word. ‘Why?’ She did not add ‘you had Yennefer’ to the end of the sentence despite her desire to.

Geralt took a sharp breath. He closed his eyes and willed time to go back before the last time that they saw each other. He had learnt too much and lost just as much since then. ‘Yennefer and I were no longer together before she.’ His breathing shook and his voice wavered. It was unlike Geralt. ‘Before she passed.’  
She squeezed his hand and his eyes were squeezed shut. ‘I’m sorry.’ she had nothing else to say and he had no other way to respond but he let out a bitter laugh. ‘I really am.’ she hugged him. He didn’t fight back. ‘you can talk to me.’ She was tentative. She did not know how far she could push him before he eventually broke.

‘We fell out of love.’ Another bitter laugh broke free from his lips. ‘By we, I meant she.’ He took a gulp of the ale they had with them before he passed it to her. They let the silence lull over them for a few minutes. She feared to break it, not even with her condolences. It wasn’t the time. ‘She said that she knew that I could not love her with my whole heart and so she did not want to stay with me.’ 

* 

When dawn broke, Geralt was already awake. Despite having not slept he was ready to leave. He promised that he would be back soon. ‘Please can you look after Cirilla?’ He looked at her with hope and pleading. ‘She would be safe here and it would only be for a few days.’ Y/N nodded. She found some peace in knowing that she would not be alone. She also knew that Ciri was in no place to be out in the world just yet.

Geralt had to travel north as he got word that there was a kikimora with a bounty on its head. ‘Thank you for doing this. I will repay you.’ She shook her head at the idea of being repaid. It was the same all those years ago. 

In the days that Geralt and Jaskier were gone, Cirilla had spent less time alone. The young princess craved company and for the nightmares to stop. She slowly ate more and more which pleased Y/N. The pair spent hours tending to the animals but Cirilla hated when Y/N would leave for the market.

On the eve of Geralt's return, Cirilla decided it time to confront Y/N. ‘How long have you been in love with Geralt for?’ The knowing and conviction in Cirilla’s voice made her heart sink. How did Cirilla know? Had she been that obvious? 

She sighed. ‘What are you speaking about, Cirilla?’ Her blood stilled. There was a very marginal chance that she would be able to get away from the conversation but there was little hope on her part.

‘I saw the way you looked at him when we were younger.’ Y/N wanted to run away. She thought that speaking to Geralt was bad but it was so much worse speaking to Cirilla. ‘And I see the way you look at him now. It’s the reason the Geralt made us leave, isn’t it?’ 

Cirilla was looking for the truth in anything. Her entire life she failed to get the answers she needed and it would not happen again.

‘Please tell me.’ Y/N sat down. The skirt of her dress pooled on the floor. ‘Since the day I found him beaten and bloodied.’ Cirilla had no knowledge of the situation so Y/N had to expand. ‘It was the second time I saw him. He was badly injured so I took him here.’ She gestured to her home. ‘And I looked after him.’ She turned away from Cirilla as tears fell down her face.

‘I didn’t know that.’ Cirilla’s voice was soft. The princess was intrigued. Geralt never spoke about how he met Y/N or how they became friends and now she was learning, Cirilla felt intrusive. She felt guilty for asking questions.

‘He left before I woke and left a bag of orens on my table. I did not expect to see him again until he came back.’ Y/N continued her story. She recounted the times that Geralt stayed before Cirilla had met him. She spoke of when she met Jaskier and how she always loved Roach.  
‘So what happened between the both of you?’ 

Cirilla cringed as she knew that the topic was still one that hurt Y/N. It was evident in her host’s eyes. ‘why did Geralt make us leave? Is it because you hated Yennefer?’ 

‘Cirilla. I-.’ Y/N stopped. She hadn’t spoken to another soul about this or how she loved Geralt. Nonetheless, she continued. ‘I didn’t hate Yennefer. I was jealous. She was beautiful, intelligent and loyal.’ She sighed and looked at the floor to avoid looking at Cirilla. ‘I was not as welcoming as I should have been and Geralt was angry. He asked if you had all overstayed your welcome and then you all left.’ 

Cirilla saw Y/N’s hand tremble as tears stained her dress. She was right all along. Geralt was unaware until two days after the left Y/N’s house, she confronted him about it. What she did not expect was for Y/N to still be in love with him.

The Witcher was still angry about how Yennefer was treated. He seethed for days on end and Cirilla was the one to confront him about it. She remembered every detail of it in vivid colour. 

* 

‘Geralt.’ Cirilla walked to him. He was sat under the shade of a tree with Roach beside him. He looked up at her but his eyes did not meet hers. He was aware that she did not want to leave but he did not want to speak to her about the situation either. ‘I think I know why Y/N was so cold before we left.’ 

He let out a grunt in response. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ He waved his hand dismissively and Cirilla put her foot down. She wanted to talk about it and so he would have to listen. She sat beside him and sighed. ‘I don’t want to talk about it, Cirilla.’ 

‘But we have to.’ She was set on speaking about it. There was nowhere for him to escape to. ‘you should probably know why Y/N was so angry. At least before you judge her too harshly.’ Cirilla raised her eyebrow and tilted her head a little in the hope that Geralt would humour her.

Geralt nodded slowly at her once. It was an indication for her to continue with her story. ‘I think Y/N loves you.’ She looked at Geralt for a fraction of a second before she turned her attention to the ground beneath her. 

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Geralt's voice was lowered. It would have been threatening if Cirilla did not know that he would never hurt her. ‘I let you speak and now the conversation is over.’ 

Geralt stood to leave but Cirilla pulled him down again. There was little resistance from the Witcher which gave her the suspicion that he needed to know.

‘She loves you.’ She raised her eyebrows at Geralt again. ‘It’s clear as the sky. She looks at you like she is in absolute love with you and then you bring your girlfriend into her home. She’s hurt.’ 

Cirilla was insistent yet Geralt was not convinced. She spent the rest of the evening explaining all of the details that she saw until Geralt believed her.

* 

When Geralt returned, Cirilla told him that she confronted Y/N. He was angry that she humiliated their host and gone behind his back. Geralt planned to speak to her about it when he was ready but Cirilla took that choice from him. 

Y/N was preparing their dinner. Geralt had caught a deer for them to eat. She thanked him but could not look at him. She was mortified. He knew that she loved him and came to her because he knew she would be stupid enough to let him back in.

‘Y/N.’ The sound of him saying her name felt foreign. It was deep and husky and she loved it. ‘Can we speak?’ He pulled her arm so she faced him. She fought every urge in her body to not look at him.

'I can’t. I’m busy right now.’ She spoke briskly. Her heart raced at being so close to him. If she were not so humiliated, she would have loved it. The space between them was negligible. 

He told her that they would speak later. And before she was able to respond, he walked away to get some wood for the fire. After dinner, he would speak to her in her bedroom. Cirilla told him that she would leave the room vacant for them to speak once she and Jaskier were asleep. 

* 

She put off speaking to him. It was an uncomfortable situation and it was not one that she knew, or ever, had to navigate. There was only so much she could do before Geralt cornered her. ‘We need to speak.’ He spoke with firmness and she nodded slowly like a person accepting their death.

They walked to her room in silence. The air was thick with tension. Her body shook with anxiety and her hands started to sweat. Geralt closed the door behind them whilst she sat on her bed picking at her nails.

She hadn’t been in there since they first came back into her life. She let Cirilla take her room like she used to. ‘Y/N.’ She kept her head down and felt the bed dip beneath his body weight beside her. ‘Look at me.’ She shook her head but his large hand cupped her face and turned it so she looked directly into his amber eyes. His hair was tucked behind his ears and she focused on a few of the fallen strands. He realised she was avoiding his gaze so he readjusted her face. ‘Look at me.’ he repeated it forcefully. 

His voice sent a shiver down her body. ‘What do you want to talk about?’ She sounded meek. It was unlike anything Geralt had heard before. She was loud and bull-headed yet there was none of that in her at that moment. 

He stroked her cheek and smiled softly. ‘I think you know.’ She closed her eyes and tried to pull back her tears but they still fell when she opened them. Geralt wiped it away with the pad of his thumb and she tried to pull away. ‘Don’t move. Please.’ He pleaded with her. He had never done that before.

‘Do we have to? I don’t want to.’ She knew it was futile but she had to try. It was hard for her to focus with the feeling on his warm hand on her cheek. It felt like fire. It was the most intimate they had ever been and she loved it. He nodded.

‘Cirilla told me that she told you.’ Y/N tried to pull away from Geralt again but his grip was still too strong. She didn’t try with any real force but she hated the situation she was in. It was mortifying.

‘Are you doing this to hurt me?’ There was no way for her to shield herself. She was exposed to him. His gaze and his judgement. There was nothing that she could do to escape it. She was not able to run. Even if she could, she had nowhere to go to.

‘No.’ His voice softened each time he spoke. ‘I didn’t know until Cirilla told me.’ He wiped away more of her stray tears. ‘I didn’t believe her at first. I was certain that you would have told me.’ 

She looked away from him. He loosened his hold on her enough for her to spin her head and to bite her lip a little. ‘Why are we talking about this, Geralt?’ She sounded bitter. ‘You were never interested in me. It doesn’t matter about how much I love you, does it?’ She tried to stand but he pulled her back down onto the bed. She was shaking. Both from anger and humiliation.

He cupped her face like before and kissed her. It was soft. His stubble brushed against her soft face. She pulled away from him first before returning to kiss him. It was tender and slow, nothing like how she expected. 

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her on top of him before he pecked her lips and then her neck. ‘No, Geralt.’ She pushed him away but did not get off of his lap. ‘can we take this slowly?’ 

He pulled away from her a little more and nodded his head. She moved to rest her forehead against his before they sat in silence and listened to the other breathing. It was peaceful. It was the first night they both found peace since being reunited.


	3. Chapter 3

He slept on the floor. She had not felt comfortable with the idea of him sleeping next to her. Not after all that he had put her through. She craved to feel the weight of his body as she let the rise and fall of his chest lull her to sleep. She was also significantly smarter than the girl she was back then. She wanted to wake up to him. His beautiful face against hers. His breath fanning across her face and his arm wrapped around her body. She starved herself of that opportunity because she could not get hurt so easily again.

If Geralt walked back into her life a few years before, she would have given him everything. His mere presence would have ensured her forgiving him. However, she was now older and a lot angrier. If she did not love Cirilla and Jaskier, she would not have allowed for them to enter when they first appeared at her doorstep, yet alone stay for multiple nights. Despite the fact that she was adamant in her mind that without Cirilla and Jaskier she would not have let Geralt in, she knew that in reality, she would have betrayed herself. Pretending she was strong was good enough for her.

A part of her was mad at herself for purposely choosing to wake up to a cold bed. She could have finally woken up to Geralt. She would see what he looked like asleep. His hair fanned across his face as his chest rose and fell in his slumber. It was an image she envisioned multiple times over many years. At one point she would have killed for it. 

He woke before her and watched for a while before he prepared Roach for the day. She looked peaceful asleep but he heard her cries in the night. She screamed his name. When she first fell asleep, she moaned his name. He had been curious as to how it would sound and hearing it made him struggle to sleep. The next time she called his name, she sounded heartbroken.

He wanted to wake her up and show her that he was still there. That he was in front of her and he wanted her more than he wanted anything. The beautiful woman in front of him. She was in front of him for such a long time and he didn’t make a move. It was the biggest mistake he had made in a long time.

*

Geralt left the following morning. He had another hunt and so Y/N looked after Cirilla. It was agreed that the princess was still not in the right state of mind to be travelling. In fact, she was more of a liability. She had no control over her powers or her emotions which meant that Geralt would have been more worried about her than anything else. It wasn’t the safest for her to stay at the cottage for much longer as Nilfgaardian soldiers could potentially track her. 

Geralt thought it would be best for Y/N continue with her usual routine in an attempt to avoid rousing suspicion. It meant that Cirilla would be left alone whilst Y/N made trips to the market, but she had to be cautious to not be seen buying too much food, either. There was a fine line between balancing the numerous issues that arose the second Geralt walked back into her life.

It made it difficult for her to feed the four of them and Roach. She took much from the land but even then, it was not always enough. Her supply of grain had sufficiently depleted and the amount of rye available was still minimal. There had also been few rains which meant that food was becoming scarcer. Realistically, the situation was quickly becoming dire.

It was a concern for not just her. Geralt was worried too. He felt guilt for the fact that Y/N did not accept payment still. Even when those with him had exhausted her resources. Her limitless generosity made him want her. He wanted to be with her as much as a Witcher could be. 

*

He made it a habit to buy food from villages he worked in. Grains and smoked fish were his usual purchases. They lasted for a fairly long time and they were relatively light. He tried to buy as much as possible without her outright rejecting it. It started with some dried fruit and nuts and he slowly grew each food ‘gift’ to be larger. He considered it to be a contribution more than anything but she did not see it the same way.

He wanted the hunt to be over as soon as possible. It would mean that he would be reunited with Y/N and spend more time with a person that is not Jaskier. It would also mean that he would have a little more money to spend on ale. Y/N was out of it and could not buy any more. She used up her wool supply on their blankets and had nothing to sell at the market. 

He planned to set up some animal traps in the forest when he returned so that they would hopefully have more food. He was not unfamiliar with sleeping without a meal but there was a strong sense of guilt at the thought of her doing so for the rest of them.

*

When Cirilla told him that Y/N was in love with him, he had no ears for it. There were so many issues. One of which was his relationship with Yennefer. It complicated his relationship as knowing of Y/N’s love, he felt guilty but could not tell Yennefer. It angered her as their relationship was based on lust, respect, and then love. 

His secret ate away at him and his relationship. He loved Yennefer but before he loved her, he loved Y/N. Love and Witchers are a difficult mix. They were not meant to have feelings and they were certainly not meant to love. He was livid that the Y/N he knew was the complete opposite when he brought Yennefer. The woman he saw was not the one that he truly fell in love with and that scared him. Who did he love? He knew he loved Yennefer, but what happened to Y/N?

He fought the idea of loving a person, or loving anyone, really. Weak spots make a Witcher’s work harder and much more dangerous. There was a reason that every horse in his life has been called Roach, and would proceed to be named so. 

Eventually, he fell for Yennefer. It was not intentional but it happened somewhere between the time he left Y/N’s home and when he was in the arms of a woman in the brothel. He did not want to hurt Y/N. He had no idea that she loved him.

*

Whilst she would not admit it, there was a slight strain in the relationship she had with everyone. The air between them was uncomfortable. Whilst the princess helped her finally kiss the man she loved, there was an unresolved tension. Cirilla had somewhat humiliated her but not only that, she was conflicted about her feelings towards Geralt. Even more so after they kissed.

She busied herself with domestic chores to dull the hum of doubt and insecurity that nagged when she took a moment to breathe or when she closed her eyes for a second too long. It reminded her that Geralt did not love her and that he had no reason to. She was a warm body to help ease the feeling of loneliness that the death of Yennefer left.

She could not ignore the reaction her body had towards him. She wanted him. There was no doubt about it. She had wanted him for years prior to their first kiss but now she craved him. His lips were soft and warm and his hands were strong and, at the same time, gentle. Now that she had a taste of him, she needed it the way an addict needs their next fix.

She had always been in love with him but it had gotten worse in the time since they reunited. He wanted something but she had no idea what it was or would be. It played in her head over and over and in every situation, he leaves her. In spite of every dream she had where he’d declare his love for her, he leaves her. Sometimes there would be a reason and others none but it led to the same thing each time: waking up with a broken heart.

She promised herself that she would not let him ruin her life again. She went through a lot to heal herself and as soon as she started to return to a warped sense of normality, he showed up on her doorstep. It was as if a pet cat had returned home after years of running away.

*

She collected more water. She boiled water often as with the many mouths, the water went quickly. She would boil a few cauldrons full each time and let it cool so they had clean drinking water. It allowed for the men to have a proper drink of water when they returned from their hunt but most importantly, there was a lot for Roach. 

More importantly, however, it was another thing that she had to keep herself preoccupied. She tended to the fire and kept it fed as she watched the water boil and bubble before she’d take it off careful not to hurt herself or waste any water. She knew that it was one of the least necessary things to do but she hated sewing now. It gave her time to think and her thoughts tormented her.

It was hard to really stay preoccupied as there was no wood that needed chopping. Geralt had more than taken care of it. He never left without chopping enough to pile to the top of her ceiling. It meant that she had to preoccupy herself with whatever else was left. Winter meant that nothing would grow so she occupied herself tending to her animals.

*

Cirilla joined her. She had taken a liking to her goat. It was mean and grumpy but it completely doted on the princess. Y/N had accidently heard Cirilla tell the goat how she felt. It would usually be the thing Cirilla would tell her in the evening before she held the princess and rocked her till she fell asleep. 

Y/N would be insulted that the princess trusted her goat over her but she understood it. Sometimes it’s easier to speak to something that cannot speak back and she would be a liar is she did not speak to her cat in the evenings when she missed Geralt the most. Her cat would curl up beside her. The warmth and companionship of the moggy kept her sane. Realistically, though, if it ever found a way to speak, she would be ruined. The cat loved Geralt more than she did and would undoubtedly tell him if she could. 

*

She was in bed. It was cold but she did not sleep alone anymore. Her cat climbed into bed with her. It pushed against her hand, begging to be pet. It purred against her, the cat’s soft fur now a comfort to her. It kept her alive through the loneliness and heartache.

She did not want it at first when it ran into her home. She tried her hardest to get it out but it stayed curled up in front of her fire. It begged for food and water. She felt bad for it and gave it a little piece of meat and a dish of water. From then on it came and went as it pleased.

She did not name it in fear that she would get attached to it. In the end, it lived with her. The beautiful longhair then slept in her bed. It became her companion. On her loneliest nights, she’d speak to it. ‘You would love him, you know.’ The cat meowed in response. ‘He’s tall and muscular, you would probably climb him the way you like to climb up all those trees.’ She let out a sombre chuckle. 

She’d explain Geralt to the feline and spoke about how much she loved him and then cry about how she messed up with him. His mannerisms were ingrained in her head, his voice too and she was certain the cat knew them all too. ‘His voice was so deep and smooth yet gravelly.’ She closed her eyes and willed herself to remember it. ‘I don’t know how to explain it. You’d have to hear it to understand.’

The cat never left her side. Instead, it used to nuzzle closer to her, as if it knew that she needed the comfort. At one point, she thought that she was losing her mind. She had so little contact with other people that she spoke to her cat like a human. Her still unnamed cat, at that.

*

It was a fortnight before Geralt and Jaskier returned. She greeted both men with a warm hug before she got some water for Roach. The beautiful horse needed a wash and so she had some warm water prepared for that. 

She spent some time with Roach. She fed the horse hay and brushed through her tangled mane. She would have some stern words with Geralt to ensure that he looked after her properly. Y/N washed the horse from top to bottom and gave it some hay to snack on as she worked. ‘You’re such a good girl, Roach.’

The horse missed her. She kept nudging Y/N for more attention and did not run away from the washing. It was good for the horse to not be on her feet constantly. Once she was finished washing the horse, she pulled on the reins to guide her to the barn. 

She was glad that Roach got along with the rest of her animals and that there was never any trouble when the horse entered with them and slept. 

*

Geralt pulled her into her bedroom when neither Cirilla or Jaskier were looking but they both knew what was going on. They chose to ignore the situation in the hope that it would be a lot less awkward than if they acknowledged it. 

He played with her hair a little before pulling her to him by her neck. His fingers were tickled by her hair as he played with the nape of her neck. ‘I’ve missed you.’ He said it barely above a whisper and pulled her even closer to him. His lips brushed over hers so gently she barely even physically felt it. She did, however, feel the gravity of his movements.

She pulled from him slightly. Not enough to break free of his embrace but enough for him to know that she was not going to kiss him at that moment. ‘Not like this, Geralt. It’s not fair on me.’ She tilted her face up to meet his gaze and shook her head lightly. ‘You don’t get to decide how fast or slow we take things. Not after what you did.’ Her voice was soft and strained. The joyful tone he was used to was marred by pain and heartache. Heartache he caused.

He nodded his head in acknowledgement and she knew that he was aware of her racing heart. She was pressed against his muscly body to the point that his heat was radiated onto hers. Her nipples hardened against the fabric of her dress but she kept her composure. ‘We’ll do it on your terms.’ She sighed in relief. ‘But don’t deny that you want me. I can smell it on you. I can see the way your chest rises and I can see how you rub your legs together.’

She blushed in embarrassment and pushed him away in anger. ‘How fucking dare you, Geralt?’ She could not deny the fact that she wanted him but she would not let him dictate the rules. ‘If you really care about me the way that you say you do, you wouldn’t do this.’

‘I’m sorry. Fuck.’ He ran his hands through his beautiful hair. It was dirty from the trip and she would get some water for him to wash after the chat they were having. ‘How do I make it up to you?’ He grabbed her wrist and tugged her towards him. ‘Tell me how you want me to love you.’ His amber eyes looked sincere and guilty. She could see it clearly but it wasn’t enough for her.

‘Give me time.’ She ran her fingers along his arm. His skin was rough and dry from the strong winds. ‘Show me that you love me. I can’t tell you how because I don’t know but it’s enough for me yet. You haven’t shown me yet.’ She ran a thumb across his face to which he closed his eyes. He looked peaceful and she hoped that he understood that it meant that she still had hope in him.

‘I promise that I will.’ He looked her in the eyes. ‘Let me look after you. Let me first contribute since we are eating your food and living here without paying anything in return.’ She nodded. Not because she wanted to please him but because as the winter continued, she had started to struggle to look after them all.

There was nothing suitable for Roach to eat. Geralt insisted that hay would be enough for the horse but Y/N was adamant that she needed something fresh too. There was little suitable food for the humans to eat too. Whilst she knew how to hunt, there were less and less animals available. It was concerning as the winter would likely overstay its welcome.

People sold less and less at the markets as they all feared the winter too. They had not had a truly bad one in years which meant that it was long overdue. Geralt was determined to ensure that there would be food available. That there would be meat to smoke and keep until there were vegetables, rye and barley available again.

*

‘How long are you going to do this to Geralt?’ Jaskier crept up behind her which made her jump and almost drop the onion she was chopping. She sighed and turned around to see the bard looking at her with sympathetic yet resigned eyes.

‘What are you talking about?’ She knew that Jaskier knew but it felt like the time that Cirilla confronted her about Geralt. It was exhausting having to explain to them the situation. She understood that they had a right to know, to an extent, as they lived together.

‘Y/N, why are you pretending that you don’t know?’ He shook his head and pulled her into a very needed and welcomed hug. ‘Geralt couldn’t stop talking about you when we were away.’ She gave him a pointed look before she let out a real laugh. It was the first time that she had laughed properly in years.

‘Stop bullshitting me. We both know that Geralt doesn’t talk. He grunts on a good day.’ She knew what Jaskier meant, though. Geralt would have spoken about her to some degree. She knew it but she also knew that Jaskier was trying to make her feel bad for not marrying Geralt at that very second. ‘It’s complicated, alright?’

Jaskier nodded before he left Y/N alone. She needed space and it was clear from her body language that she did not want to talk about Geralt. It was even clearer that she loved the Witcher but was fighting all of her instincts. It was like the time Jaskier witnessed Geralt look at Y/N and then walk away.

Both Jaskier and Cirilla were growing more and more sick of Y/N and Geralt. They had witnessed the tension and care over many years and yet Y/N was understandably scared that Geralt would hurt her again.

It pained them both to know that there really was nothing that they could do. They had to wait to see what would happen in the end and there was no guarantee that the result would be happy. They just had to hope that it would be. For all of their sakes. 

Geralt was more irritated, than usual, on their latest hunt. Jaskier knew it had something to do with Y/N and so he thought that it would be resolved when they returned. Instead, he saw Geralt chopping wood outside with the fury of hell. He was sure that it became Geralt’s escape from the pain he felt.

*

They ate dinner together. Jaskier and Cirilla had eaten earlier in the day and were with the animals. That left Y/N and Geralt to spend more time together. The awkwardness filled the room. The tension was thick and suffocating. 

She repeatedly looked at him, her eyes willing him to speak. Nothing. His lack of response killed her. It wasn’t that she wanted him to chase her to the end of the world but just something. ‘I can feel you looking at me.’ He looked at her, eyes dark with desire.

‘Geralt.’ She sighed and played with her hands. ‘I meant it when I said that I wanted to take this slow. I need you to show me that you do care about me.’ She pleaded. It was desperate and weak. Completely unlike her but it had gone on for long enough. She wanted him more than anything.

‘How slow do you really want this?’ His voice was marred with anger. It was low and deadly. ‘Every fucking time I try to do something you push me away.’ He pulled at his hair in frustration. ‘You won’t even let me fucking kiss you but you look at me begging to be fucked.’ 

She didn’t know what to say. A lump grew in her throat. She was being unfair, yes, but she was also still hurt. ‘What do you want me to say?’ she too was frustrated. Tears built up in her eyes that she failed to blink back. ‘I’m not going to let you just walk back into my life like you didn’t completely fuck me up.’

She stood to leave but Geralt refused to let her. His large hand wrapped around and her arm and he pinned her to the wall. ‘Where the fuck do you think you’re going?’ His gravelly voice sent waves through her body. His breath fanned across her face. ‘You don’t get to run away from this fucking conversation again.’  
His large body enclosed hers. It made her feel both claustrophobic and aroused. She fought to avoid his gaze but the allure was too strong. His eyes bore into hers. It was hard to read exactly what emotion he was feeling but she knew that he liked being so close to her. ‘Geralt.’ She was breathless. She fought against every instinct in her body but her willpower was growing weak.

‘Say my name again.’ He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. It was an almost perfect echo of how she cried his name in her sleep. Needy, breathless, and alluring. Her nipples perked up against her dress and he traced over her clothed breasts with the pad of his thumb.

It sent shivers down her spine and she arched towards his touch. ‘Geralt.’ She mewled out his name as his fingers dipped beneath the skirt of her dress. He traced over her wet folds and kissed her gently. 

He pulled away from the kiss and took his soaked fingers from her body. ‘Do you still want nice and slow?’ She forced her eyes open to look into his amber ones. They glowed with desire and she felt his hardness dig into her. 

She nodded slowly and kissed him once more. ‘Slowly. Please, Geralt. I can’t be hurt again.’ He pulled her into a hug and they sat there for hours. His fingers stayed in her hair playing with the loose strands. His other one roamed across her body as neither spoke.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut in this chapter

Warning: smut, violence

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Their lives had changed to have a new form of domestic routine. Cirilla and Jaskier would leave with Geralt as he hunted and they would return to her afterwards. It was like they were coming home. She had her own unconventional and slightly dysfunctional family.

She missed him when he left. They were not together but the air stifled them when they were alone together. Longing and lust clouded their minds yet he remained respectful. They took it slow. He did not sleep with her yet. She still held off on the idea of waking up to an empty bed to find him gone.

It was not that she did not trust him but rather that she did not trust herself to recover if he ever left again. She was not sure if she would be able to return to a normal life if she let him into her heart. It was too much of a risk for her to take.

Whilst her cat was the reason she was still sane, she knew that she could not get another animal every time Geralt hurt her. It was not financially feasible. Especially since she allowed him and his family into her home. Food, room and money was scarce and it was getting harder and harder to keep them all fed.

It was not by lack of trying on both her and Geralt’s part but the winter frost had not left despite it being spring. The chill in the air froze the ground over and prevented any new growth. People did not sell as much at the market as they too were stockpiling all that they had. Anything available for purchase was on the brink of extortion.

It was starting to become borderline unliveable. With so many mouths to feed and the resources available to her, if they did not find a way to feed themselves soon, it was likely that they would all perish. The one thing that she did have in abundance was warmth. Geralt ensured that there was always enough wood for the fire.

Whilst the fear of starvation was at the forefront of her mind, the terror of Nilfgaard never left her. The chance of an impending attack loomed above her as she tried to get on with her life. Her fear was exacerbated when she was alone with her thoughts.

Her cat tried to comfort her on nights where the wind wailed and her mind would not rest. Its warm body curled into her yet she found no relief. The last time she felt peace was with Geralt. She only seemed to find peace when she was with him. There was peace when he played with her hair and kissed the top of her forehead. She found peace when she heard the sound of his heart and when she saw his chest rise and fall.

*

She was worried. It had been months since the left and Geralt’s latest hunt was only a week away by foot. It was somewhere in the south but she did not know the specifics. Not really. Her geography was poor, to say the least.

Worry sunk her stomach. What if Nilfgaard found them and they were in trouble? The unsettling feeling in her stomach let her know that something was wrong but she did not know what it would be. She had no way to contact them and all she could realistically do was wait. She employed some of the same tasks she did when she tried to forget about him. She sewed intricated designs to be sold at the market and spent hours foraging. She did anything and everything to keep her restless mind at bay.

It worked at first. It always did. But eventually, her thoughts and fears broke through and she was in a state of anguish. It was the same when Geralt left but she had grown a sort of strategy to ease some of the worst thoughts. Like the one where she was certain that Geralt had died. That thought followed her through her restless sleep. It haunted her.

It haunted her that she may not be able to tell Geralt that she loved him and that whilst she was scared that he would hurt her again, she trusted him not to. That wasn’t the issue, though. Not really. Her issue was trying to forgive him. She knew she could do it but she did not know how to. She was so close to the point of no return and nothing he said or could say would be able to change that fact.

It was clear that she loved him and that he knew it but she never really told him. She never let him know just how much she did and it killed her that he may never know. She could not rest. She spent the night in a state of tears, fear, and dread. Were Jaskier and Cirilla okay? Were they alive?

*

As she woke, she was not able to shake the dread in the pit of her stomach. It twisted and made her nauseous. There was nothing more unappealing than eating at that present moment. She just wanted Geralt to return and to love her. She wanted everything to be fine again.

She fed her animals. They provided some comfort. Even her grumpy goat seemed to sense that something was not right with her. It tried to comfort her. His head nudged against her palm as she added water to his trough and fed him. At that moment, she could almost understand why Cirilla liked to talk to him. She gave him a little scratch before he walked off.

It was not for them she had to worry about. A knock on her door startled her. It was not Geralt. She knew that much as he never knocked. She never locked it as people never really came so far into the forest. Nor did people ever visit her. It made her blood chill. Something was wrong. When she did not immediately open it, the person on the other side pounded at the door. The unmistakable clang of armour made her fear the worst.

She took a deep breath and screamed that she was coming before she opened the door. In front of her stood a tall, broad soldier. Part of Nilfgaard, nonetheless. She looked at him with uneasy eyes and tucked her body behind the door. ‘Have you seen a Witcher here, miss?’ The man’s voice was creepy and unsettling.

‘No.’ Her voice was firm and somehow masked much of her discomfort. ‘Nobody comes around here.’ She moved slightly further from behind the door so the soldier could see her better. His gaze on her hardened as his eyes tightened into a squint.

‘Don’t fucking lie to me, little girl.’ He put his foot in the entrance of the door and pushed it open. It flung her body to the side and the man stepped into her home with numerous other soldiers. One of them forced her to sit and pulled a knife on her. ‘Just to be sure, we are going to inspect the place.’

She grits her teeth before she smiles at the man holding a blade at her. ‘If you just asked nicely like fucking gentlemen, I would have let you look around a lot sooner.’ She was livid. How dare they enter her home and threaten her? ‘There’s nobody here, look around but don’t you mess the place up. I just cleaned up.’

The first man walked in front of her and pinched her cheek to which she spat at him. The filthy man’s fingers were greasy and rough and nothing like Geralt’s. The soldier slapped her around the face. The force threw her off balance, even from her sitting position. It was not the sting that hit her first, but rather the shock of the audacity of him. Then the fire in her face grew, then dulled and throbbed. She grabbed the cheek and a few tears ran down her face. ‘There’s no Witcher here. Let’s go.’

The men left after that. She had nothing to dull the pain from the hit so she sat crumpled on the floor and sobbed. The pain and fear overwhelmed her. Where was Geralt? She thought she was a strong woman but she was too scared to do anything. There were too many emotions flowing through her and she had no clue what to do. She needed Geralt to fix everything and make her feel better.

Eventually, she got off of her spot on the floor and tried to take her mind off of it all. She went into the forest to forage for some berries and nuts. She was looking for anything she could preserve. Food was still difficult to come across, especially with the new lambs and chicks.

She heard some rustling behind her and she grabbed a stick from the floor in the hopes of defending herself. As she turned, she saw the familiar white hair of Geralt and she ran towards him. ‘Geralt.’ She called out towards him in as hushed a voice as she could without screaming down the forest. She feared there were still guards around.

He walked towards her and left Roach in the hands of Cirilla. ‘Y/N.’ His voice was low and smooth and he pulled her into an embrace. She clutched him tightly and pressed her non-injured cheek towards his chest and just listened to his heartbeat for a few seconds before she came back to her senses.

‘Geralt. Nilfgaard were here this morning.’ She spoke hurriedly and kept looking around the forest in case they were close. ‘They knocked on my door and soldiers searched the house and they left because it was empty. She was panicked again and Geralt held her face. She flinched when his fingers touched the tender skin of her cheek.

His brow furrowed when he saw the developing hand-shaped bruise. His fingers brushed over it briefly before he looked her in the eye and held her face in place so she had to look into his amber eyes. ‘What happened?’ She tried to look away. ‘Did those soldiers do that to you?’

She nodded quickly and tried to pull herself away from his grasp but he was unrelenting. She looked behind Geralt and saw Cirilla and Jaskier looking at the pair of them. ‘They were looking for you but I convinced them to leave. He pinched my cheek so I spat at him.’ Geralt looked conflicted. He was proud of her for not laying over like dog but he was livid that she put herself in more danger.

‘Was it then that he hit you?’ She nodded. Geralt hugged her and they made their way back to her home. She held his hand as they ran back with Jaskier and Cirilla in tow. She had no idea why Geralt was moving so quickly. Nilfgaard must have moved on already.

*

Her home was cold. The fire died in the time that she was out but Geralt did not seem to care about that. He had searched the entire house from top to bottom in case Nilfgaard left any sort of trap or enchantment to let them know if he was there.

Jaskier had taken it upon himself to restart the fire whilst Cirilla fed Roach. They had resettled into that domestic routine but there was a tense fear in the room. They weren’t safe and an attack may happen at any time. She prepared a stew for dinner. Water helps stretch out food and she intended to do just that. Geralt had brought back some bread from the next town over so they had a warm meal for the evening.

Geralt pulled her into her room to speak without Jaskier and Cirilla hearing. ‘Y/N, I’m sorry.’ She furrowed her brows in response. Why was he apologising to her? ‘I don’t know why or how they found out that I had been here. If I wasn’t here, they would not have bothered you.’ He spoke slowly as he always did but there was an urgency in the tone. Like he needed her to understand the guilt he felt and how much it consumed him.

‘Geralt. It’s not your fault.’ She squeezed his hand and cupped his face with her other one. He looked at her with pain and sadness. It was unusual for him but she had seen him look like that too many times over the past few months. It pained her to know he felt guilty. ‘I promise it’s not your fault, Geralt. You did nothing wrong.’ She kept trying to assure him until he pulled her onto his lap.

He played absentmindedly with her hair as she listened to the slow beats of his heart. It brought some calmness to her but she knew that Geralt was thinking about a plan. He did not think that her cottage was safe but he also knew that they did not have the resources to be out on the road for too long.

At some point, still in his lap, she turned to face him. ‘Do you still want to take this slowly?’ His voice was low and pleading. His face fell when she nodded but in a rush of courage, she leaned up to kiss him. A surprised sound escaped him as she did so. It made her smirk that she managed to surprise the Butcher of Blaviken. It was a feat for sure.

His lips were rough against hers but the kiss was gentle. She laced her fingers through his hair. It had gotten long and she loved it. There was something so alluring about his bright white hair and amber eyes.

Geralt pulled her deeper into the kiss and she felt him harden beneath her. She ground her arse against him as he wrapped one arm around her waist and the other around her neck. She panted as they broke from the kiss. His eyes were dark from lust and she knew he was exercising all of his self-restraint.

She tingled her fingers in his hair and kissed him again. It was rougher and more desperate than the last. All of the fear she felt for him morphed into a desire to be one with him. She needed him more than she ever thought she did or would. Earlier that day she thought she may live a life without him again and she did not want to relive it. She needed to show him that she loved him.

‘We need to stop now or I won’t be able to.’ Geralt pulled away from her and she shook her head before she kissed him again. Her lips trailed to nibble at his ear and then to his thick neck where she left open kisses. His hands slipped beneath her dress and played at the wetness pooled in her panties. ‘You’re so wet already.’ She clenched her core in response.

Geralt pushed her panties to the side and pushed one thick finger into her folds. She arched in response to his touch and bit into his shoulder. She had imagined what his fingers would feel like inside of her and they were bigger and reached all of the places that she couldn’t. ‘Geralt.’ She was already in a haze of pleasure. He was good but then he added another finger which added to the delicious stretch. She tugged at his hair as he massaged her bundle of nerves.

‘Look at you. You’re so fucking ready for me and I’ve barely even touched you.’ Geralt removed her dress and let it fall on the floor. Her body shivered at the cool air and she shrieked when he bit one of her nipples. One arm held her steady whilst the other played with her core and his mouth flicked at her nipples.

‘I’m so close.’ She closed her eyes and bucked with his fingers. He increased the pressure on her clit and she could not help the shaking of her body. It was the best orgasm she had in a long time, her walls clenched around his fingers and he kept pumping until she rode it out in full.

She clumsily tried to take off his trousers which he pulled down just enough that he could lazily pump his cock. Her body was covered in a thin layer of sweat and she needed to feel him. She needed to feel his skin against hers so she took off his shirt and he lay her on the bed. ‘Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?’

Geralt ran his length across her folds. He was thick and big. Almost too big. Geralt could not hide the smirk on his face as he saw her reaction to seeing his cock. He thrust into her in one swift motion and felt her legs wrap around him and pull him closer. He waited a few moments to let her adjust to his size, she was panting and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

Once he started to thrust into her, her hands gripped the sheets beneath and his groans filled the room. Through her haze of pleasure, she could hear his balls slapping against her thighs. Geralt toyed with her clit and she was close to another climax. She could not even speak but he knew and felt her walls milk him for all he was worth when he reached his climax not long after hers.

She pulled him to lay beside her. It was the first time she let him in her bed but she wanted him there. They both were panting and hot. The scent of sex reeked from their bodies and in the air but there was nothing better for either of them. ‘Geralt. Stay.’ He turned and kissed her.

He closed his eyes and nodded. ‘What happened to slow?’ He smirked but she buried her head in his chest, half in embarrassment and half in comfort. He played with her hair and then traced his hand down to the bruise on her face.

‘I wanted slow but yesterday I thought something happened to you.’ She closed her eyes at the memory. There was a lump in her throat but she had to tell him. He needed to know. ‘I thought that you were killed. That Nilfgaard had found you and that I would have to live in a world without you again.’ He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, his face buried in her hair.

‘I’m not going anywhere.’ His voice soothed her. It was good he came back that night otherwise she would have been too scared to be alive. She would not have been able to sleep knowing that Nilfgaard could come back at any moment. ‘I promise you’re safe but we need to leave soon. Nilfgaard could come back so I want you to come with us. Let me keep you safe. Do you trust me?’

‘Yes, Geralt. I trust you.’


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the calm before the storm

They ate dinner in silence. The roar of the fire was one of her favourite sounds. It had the same cathartic effect of hearing rain patter as it falls. However, this time it only made the full room feel emptier with the way the sound echoed around.

The fear of impending danger struck her the greatest. The others had experienced that before but it was a first for her. She had mostly lost her appetite but the stew could possibly be her last good meal for a while so she ate as much as she could stomach. Geralt stayed beside her the entire night as if it were to make sure that she knew that he was there for her through it all. His fingers brushed her side, his thigh touched hers, his presence was warming.

The pain in her cheek has mostly subsided bar the times in which she’d move her face. It gave her some sort of reality to hold onto, though. Between the fear she had for Geralt, the soldiers and sleeping with him, she needed something to remind her of reality. Something tangible that she could feel. That pain. It kept her in her place and let her know where she was.

Geralt explained to Cirilla and Jaskier her run-in with the soldiers as she found all of the dried meats and fruits in the house and packed them. She took as much as they could carry without being slowed down. She had some orens saved for a rainy day and by that point, it was more than a rainy day. It was a storm. The type of storm that shook every fibre of her being.

*

She tried to convince them to leave the following day as they had travelled for days and it meant that she had time to prepared some potions for Geralt and dry more food. It would have also given her more time to do something about her animals.

Geralt agreed that they could stay until after she sold all of her livestock. She did not have a plan for her cat, however. She did not want to part with it but there was no way that it would be able to travel with them. It was also not feasible to just leave her cat there when she was not sure when she would return.

Her tabby was in Geralt’s lap. It was unsurprising to her by that point. It pained her to have to say good-bye to it. The creature that kept her sane. The one that brought her comfort and eased her loneliness. Her companion. She scratched the cat’s head which elicited a low purr and it was like the tabby knew that they were going to part ways.

Nobody spoke. There was too much to say and far more to ignore. The air suffocated her. Too much was happening for her to truly comprehend the magnitude of it all. Her entire life would be uprooted. Her home abandoned. It was the price she had to pay to be with Geralt.

She got Geralt to slaughter a number of her animals so that she could smoke them. It would provide sustenance for a while. As she dried and smoked two lambs, Geralt destroyed the furniture. He wanted to make the place look ransacked so her disappearance had some merit.

He wanted to make it look like the soldiers had scared her from her own home. Made her fear for her safety so badly that she escaped the town.

He slept with her that night. His arms wound tightly around hers. He kept her grounded. Reminded her that she was not alone. Not anymore. Never again. Geralt was going to be there for her when she needed him, when she didn’t need him, and even if she didn’t want him there. He knew that he had a lot of making up to do and he intended to spend the rest of his life doing so. He held her all night and would not sleep until her muffled sniffles and cries stopped and she stilled in his arms.

*

She left for the market early in the morning. The sparse light gave her a little cover but it also gave her more time. It took a while to round up her animals and she had to take them all herself to avoid any suspicion. The walk was beautiful, as always, but she took the time to take in every detail one last time. The jewel green trees were lightly illuminated by the sun, of which small rays would peek through. She let herself briefly stop to feel the rough bark and smell the rain-soaked ground before she got back to the task at hand.

She had sold all of her animals for 10 marks. Not a lot. Far less than they were worth but it needed to be done. She would not be able to care for them once she left and it also meant that they had a little more money. The mark on her face had darkened into a bruise which she tried to hide from those in the market. A few people asked and she gave them a weak, unbelievable lie before they felt uncomfortable enough to leave her alone. It was a horrible trip to the market for her but she bought a loaf of bread for breakfast. She kept the eggs the hens laid that morning for them.

*

She tried not to cry as she made her way back to the little cottage she could call home no longer. She’d already parted ways with her animals and now, she needed a way to remove her attachment with her cat.

Geralt was awake when she got back. He waited by the door for her. He anticipated her tears. She was leaving her life and everything she knew behind because of him. And for him. He did not deserve her. ‘Come here, love.’ He kissed the top of her head as she sobbed gently into his chest. ‘I know it’s hard. I’m so sorry.’ He comforted her until she pulled away. She started to cook breakfast so that they could leave as soon as possible. She feared the return of Nilfgaard so badly. Geralt roused Cirilla and Jaskier for breakfast and then she said good-bye. She said good-bye to her life for her new one.

*

The walk was harsh but the weather made it much worse. Geralt had caught wind of a monster in the mountainous regions north of Sodden and the rain made everything slippery. The narrow paths of the mountain made it difficult for them to walk. Geralt walked in front to guide Roach through the perilous trek.

She almost fell over the side but Jaskier caught and steadied her. If he hadn’t, she was certain that she would have fallen to her certain death. As much as she feared the dangerous journey, she feared Nilfgaard far more. The thought of them finding her again sent fear through her body, freezing her like ice. She pushed the fear out of her mind and followed Geralt. It was all that she could do by that point. Survive. Step by step, day by day. She had never travelled before, nor has she walked so far in one go. Her feet began to blister and she grew tired.

Jaskier seemed to have been accustomed to the tiring journey whilst Cirilla and Geralt were superhuman. They had much more strength, power, and stamina than she did. The heavy rain and strong midday sun made it unbearable to walk. It was humid and the air was thick. It was hard to breathe and all she wanted was to sit and rest but Geralt refused. He insisted that it was too dangerous to stop until they got to Sodden.

She felt guilty when Geralt helped her onto Roach. Not only would the conditions be horrible for Roach but everybody else was walking. She insisted that she could walk but Geralt saw right through her. ‘Let me take care of you for once.’ He was stern and she nodded in resignation, too tired to argue. She felt the relief instantly. Being off of her feet was delightful even despite the fact that her dress clung to her skin and it was impossible to breathe. She was just grateful for the respite. Geralt kept on high alert, his hand above his sword at all times.

It would have been quiet but for Jaskier’s singing. She knew well enough that it no longer bothered Geralt and he had actually grown to somewhat enjoy the singing. She could not say for certain how much he enjoyed it but she knew that he did. Geralt did not say much. He waited for her to initiate conversation but she did not feel like it. She grew more and more exhausted the further they travelled. The furthest she ever went was to the market but this was much, much further. So much so that they reached Sodden at nightfall.

As soon as they entered the town, Geralt was greeted by a woman. She was stunning, curly brown hair with eyes to match and a multitude of freckles. She felt a pang of jealousy looking at the other woman. Why was Geralt not with someone as stunning as her? She later learnt that the woman was a sorceress called Triss. It pained her to know that Geralt knew numerous stunning sorceresses but she pushed those thoughts aside like her fear of Nilfgaard.

Geralt insisted that it was safe for them to reside for the night there. He even thought that it was so safe that he insisted that the rest of them should stay in Sodden as he travels with Roach to his hunt. She tried to protest but she knew that he was right. There was a sorceress here that could protect them. She was also aware that if she was with him, Geralt may be distracted.

He went to the local inn and booked two rooms. One for them, and one for Cirilla. Jaskier had to pay for his own but it was an agreement between them so she said nothing. She winced in embarrassment when a loud gurgle erupted from her stomach once she smelt the stew bubbling on the fire. It was nothing fancy or particularly cozy but it did remind her of the inns and taverns from back home. She had always assumed that they would all smell the same. Like stale ale. The stench poured from every inch of the establishment. By that point, she would not be surprised if the table were infused with it. Geralt took the hint and ordered them all dinner and ale. They all ate quickly, each of them wanting to shed their damp clothes and take a bath. Her hair was soaked and the water dripped onto her shoulders. They were sat as close to the fire as they could without crawling into the fireplace but it was not enough to ease the chill in her bones.

*

In her room, she found a clean set of clothes for her and for Geralt. The clothing provided was exactly in her size. A beautiful ruby dress and when she showed it to Geralt, he explained that Triss had left them clean clothes. Geralt walked over to her and gently kissed her. When she tried to reach for more, he shook his head to which she whined. 

The disappointment lessened significantly when he guided her to a warm bath. She lustfully watched him strip and climb into the steaming water. ‘Are you not going to join me?’ Geralt reached his arm out as she shook her head, embarrassed that he would be able to completely see her. ‘Don’t make me undress you myself.’ She paused for a brief second to think. In the end, she deducted that it would be less humiliating to undress than if he were to do so for her. His gaze was fixed on her. He wanted to see every minor movement she made and he wanted to see the way her chest rose and fell with each breath. If she timed it just right, Geralt would not see too much of her. As she slid out of her dress, her hands instinctively went to cover her breasts.

In displeasure, Geralt stepped out of the water and stood in front of her. His lips grazed her forehead before he took a step back to look at her. Arms crossed over her breasts. He pulled her arms down and kissed her on the lips. Slow. Sensual. ‘Don’t hide from me.’ It was both a plea and a demand. Before she could respond or even comprehend the situation, Geralt took her arm and pulled her into the water. She could not help the low moan from escaping as she stepped into the warmth. It soothed her aching muscles and she relished in the idea of finally being clean. Geralt sat behind her and she felt his start to clean her with a damp towel. ‘Geralt’

‘Let me take care of you for once.’ He cut her off and moved her hair out of the way so he could wash her neck, her shoulders, and down her arm. All thoughts of protest dissipated when he started to massage her shoulders. It was the most intimate they had ever been. It was loving and it felt so right. All of her thoughts and fears melted away for a moment of tranquillity. She had no home or clue as to what would happen from there on out but she did not care. Not at that moment, at least. She trusted Geralt and he made her feel safe. In spite of all that happened, she knew that he was there for her, that he loved her, even if he never said it.

The past few days had taken a lot of the fight from her, in certain respects, yet she had never felt more determined. She was determined to not let Nilfgaard destroy her life, but she also knew that she no longer had to fight Geralt. In spite of how utterly shit the past few days had been, they were also incredibly enlightening. There was a lot that she needed to learn but none of it mattered. Not in the present. All that she cared about was the feeling of Geralt’s hands. By that point, it was not even sexual. Just intimate. She loved it. By the time she returned the favour and cleaned the mess of the day from him, the water was cold.

They got out and before she really felt a chill, Geralt had changed the water. It was scalding but she loved it. She finally felt clean. The mental and physical grime had been scrubbed and burnt off of her body. She shifted closer to Geralt. It was not hard as his large frame took up much of the space but she shifted until she was practically sat on his lap with her head at his bare chest. ‘Do you have to go tomorrow?’ She spoke the same way she did when they slept together. Softly, tentatively, and growing tired.  
Geralt reached his arms around her until they were wound and bound together. ‘I have to.’ His usually gruff voice was soft like hers and he kissed the top of her head. She sighed into his touch and closed her eyes. She wanted to treasure the moment more than anything. There were too many unknowns and there was no safety in her cottage anymore.

Their little bubble had popped and they were in the real world now. Permanently. If a mage asked her if she would trade knowing Geralt to have her life and home back, she would outright refuse. He was the best thing in her life by far. If it were not for him, she would probably be a lonely spinster in her little cottage. Living day to day, not thinking past the following morning. ‘I don’t want you to.’ Her voice was whiny and unlike her but she was desperate to have him for just a little bit longer.  
‘I’ll be back before you even know it.’ He kissed the top of her head once more and started to absentmindedly play with her hair. He loved the feeling of it in his hands. It was taken care of, unlike his. Whilst he loved it, if he was ever asked to describe her, he’d speak of her eyes and how anyone could see the love and kindness in them. He loved that about her.

He gave her a reason to live. It was not about survival but actually having a life. Having people to love and care about. Having a reason and a purpose to be awake and alive. So, she treasured the sound of the slow beat of his heart, his cool body, and his soft lips. Whilst she could always feel his love, she wanted to remember the feeling of his touch, his body, and recite each piece of him to her memory. Until each part of him was engraved into her entire being.

The dangers of his job meant that nobody ever knew how he would return, if at all and so she was committed to not forget a single detail about him. At some point, Geralt roused her from her thoughts and lifted her from the tub. She noted that he was dedicated to taking care of her once he dried her and helped slip the dress around her body before he took care of himself. She was not used to it. She was usually the one that looked after others but knowing that he was there to look after her without asking brought a warmth that replaced the fear that Nilfgaard instilled into her. She led him back to their room where the fire roared and its soft glow illuminated his yellow eyes.  
‘Sit down, Geralt.’ He sat on the floor between her knees as she sat on the bed before she reached for his hair and combed it with her fingers. ‘Thank you.’ She barely even whispered but she knew that he heard it. Again, they relapsed into silence as she braided his hair away from his face. She draped her arms around his neck and touched her cheek to his damp hair.

The relished the quiet between them. It contrasted all of the noise that filled their lives beforehand. She needed nothing more than to just exist with him and he gave her just that. There was nothing she needed more than that stillness. After all of the running and moving, the feeling of being still and grounded was enough to regain most of that strength she thought she lost over the years.


	6. Chapter 6

It surprised her that Geralt did not leave whilst she slept. Before they were whatever they were, he did that a lot. It became a habit of his. Leaving before she could say good-bye. Before breakfast and a kiss. He’d always say that it made it easier for him to go before he could see her eyes sadden when he got dressed or how she would pout as he unties Roach. It helped him get a lot less attached.

She was pleased to find his body next to hers. Through groggy eyes, she did not believe that he was actually there until she reached out and felt his large body. She presumed that he really meant it when he said that he wanted to show her just how much he really cared. There was some comfort in that. She felt loved by him. If somebody had asked her if Witchers were capable of love a few years ago, she would tell them no with as much certainty as she had about the sun being bright. ‘Morning.’ She was groggy from sleep and the beams of sun burnt her eyes.

It was too early for her to be awake but she wanted to catch Geralt before he left. ‘Morning, sweetheart.’ He kissed her lips lightly not caring about her morning breath. She wrapped her arms around his body and pulled him closer to her on the bed so she could curl into his body for a few seconds longer. ‘I have to go soon, don’t tempt me with going back to bed.’ She thought about doing so before deciding against it. The sooner he left, the sooner he would return.

She lightly hummed against his skin before she sat up. She finger-combed his hair until she could run them through it without hitting any knots. He loved when she played with his hair. There was something so intimate about him letting someone touch him in a non-sexual manner. It brought him a lot of comfort. ‘Geralt. Stop moving so much. I just want to tie the front of your hair up so it doesn’t get in the way of your eyes.’ He stilled almost instantly at the sternness in her voice.

He hated having his hair up but he never told her. He liked how concerned she was for him. She insisted that the reason she always did up his hair was to ensure that he could see without any obstructions. However, she didn’t say that she just loved just being close to him and touching him. It brought her a lot of joy. It was a simple thing but it also let her know that he was really there. With her.

They were finally getting somewhere as a couple and as a team. It was a step in the right direction for the pair of them. Neither of them were alone anymore. It scared her. It meant that there were people in her life that could hurt her. It was a risk she was willing to take. He took a risk by being with her. As a Witcher, he always said that the more people that he cared about, the bigger the risk was. Caring about people was a liability for a Witcher. It made them weak. He knew that. He was taught that. And he defied that. He did it for her and she knew that.

*

They ate breakfast together. Cirilla and Jaskier left them alone to say good-bye. She stalled his departure by petting Roach and brushing out her mane. It gave them a little time to talk. He brought up the idea of getting another little cottage somewhere far up north. They could be away from it all, have a home, and quiet life. Like they had before.

The mood was sombre. The last time that they were away from each other, she was attacked. He hated the thought of leaving her but he was also aware that it was actually safer for them both to be apart. He would be too worried about her safety if she were to be with him but he also hated the idea of not being the one to protect her. Logically, he knew that Triss and the rest of the Brotherhood were more than capable but there was a fear in giving up that level of control.

As she kissed Geralt good-bye, she could not help but think about the possibility of children. She had always thought about having them. What person hasn’t at some point in their lives? But she didn’t know if she ever wanted any. Not truly. It would be selfish for her to have a child in this world. Food was scarce and the war was constantly imminent. To some degree, it was lucky that Geralt was sterile.

She knew that he would be a good father by the way that he looked after Cirilla. He cared for her more than anything in the world. He would destroy the Continent for her and everyone knew it. She remembered the time a young man tried to court Cirilla and Geralt almost slaughtered him on the spot. The princess was more than capable of handling herself but Geralt needed people to know that he would always look after her.

It made her want her own children with him. It was hard not to. She wanted him to seep into every aspect of her life and leave her with something when he left. But it was selfish of her. There was no way for her to have a child and for it not to be selfish. She wanted one because it would remind her of Geralt. She’d want it to have his yellow eyes. It would not be fair to have a child in their world. She knew that but there was always a tug at her heart at the thought of having one.

*

People stared at her in town. She was the one with the Witcher. In spite of everything that had happened in Sodden, the residents were still wary of outsiders, the magical ones even more so. They all looked at her as if she had betrayed mankind for being with the Butcher of Blaviken.

She didn’t care. It would have been different if she knew these people and if Geralt was a terrible person but neither was the case. Their opinions were not her concern. The focus of her concern, however, was the welfare of those she cared about. She knew that the black, viscous potion Geralt used was running low.

She got to know Triss. She learnt from the mage the composition of Geralt’s tincture. The mage promised to do the magic part as long as she provided all of the ingredients for it. That became her mission. She spent many a day collecting herbs, berries and other ingredients. All of the excesses were sold at the market which became rather lucrative. It was enough to pay for her lodging and food along with Cirilla’s. Jaskier, however, insisted that he paid for his own. She did not mind as it meant that she was able to save more money for a little cottage.

She wanted to have her own little part of the world again. A place where she could shut out reality and just exist. It would be peaceful again. She needed to have a place to go home to again. She traded one comfort for another when she left with Geralt.

Despite how long she looked, she was not able to get the blood from a sparrow for the tincture. It was the last ingredient needed to complete the potion. She wanted to make enough that Geralt would not need to worry about it once he got back. She understood how vital it was to him. How the potion helped hone his senses. She knew that it was very effective as they once fucked when he was still under the effects of the potion.

She had to clench her legs at the reminder of her escapades with Geralt. She missed him deeply and tried to refocus her mind onto something other than the feeling on his body on top of hers. She stumbled further into the forest surrounding Sodden with a stick in hand. She hit at the shrubs in the hopes that she could find a fairly fresh sparrow and extract some of its blood to no avail.

Vultures ate and picked at all of the animals in that forest and there was no way for her to truly source any of it. She made it her mission to try and find a way for her to get some. She had no way of hitting the birds but even if she did, she did not know how to shoot a bow.

*

When she returned to the inn, she had a basket full of herbs and berries. She would sell them in the morning and hope that someone was selling swallow blood. It would make her life a lot easier but it was a problem for the day after.

She had dinner with Triss. She liked the mage. ‘You’re not like any of the other mages I’ve met before.’ She puts her hand over mouth and then pops some bread in her mouth. Triss smiles back at her. It’s warm and comforting.

‘Thank you.’ Triss takes a gulp of her ale before continuing. ‘When Geralt told me he was seeing someone, I can’t help but be surprised by you.’ Her eyebrows shot up with Triss’ revelation. Geralt had told people about them. She was both shocked and pleased at knowing that Geralt was somewhat proud of what they had.

‘Why are you surprised?’ She tried her best to keep her voice level. It was not that she was insecure about herself but Geralt knew a multitude of powerful, and incredibly beautiful women. That, in itself, was a little intimidating. She could not exactly compare with sorceresses.

It was as if Triss could feel her discomfort. The mage grabbed her arm and rubbed it soothingly. ‘Don’t look so worried.’ She tried not to scrunch up her face at the thought of what Triss was going to say. ‘You are so humble it’s surprising.’ She was visibly confused so Triss continued. ‘Geralt told me about how much you helped him.’

‘Geralt doesn’t talk all that much.’ They both laughed at that. ‘How did you manage it?’ She was genuinely very interested in how Triss managed to make her boyfriend talk. The thought of Geralt being her boyfriend felt weird yet right. The way their relationship had blossomed was slightly unsettling. It moved fast but it didn’t move too intensely for her. Part of her wanted to run. She missed the normality and inconspicuousness of her previous life. On the other hand, she didn’t love the version of Geralt she made in her head anymore, she loved the real him.

A part of her wished that she did not need Geralt but fate has its way and there could be no other reason for their bond than fate. She didn’t need him and there was proof in the fact that she was fine when he left. She rebuilt her life and she was okay. She needed him, though. He was the reason that she learnt to love people again. He helped her more than she was willing to admit, and more than he realised.

*

People at the market were never particularly pleasant to her but she did not care. She was there for a reason and once she was done, she could forget about them. Many of the inhabitants of Sodden did not want to leave the safe confines of the village and so her supplies were in very high demand.

The locals hated the fact that she was able to make money off of their fear but she did not intend to take advantage of their poor situation. She simply saw a way to make some money to sustain herself until Geralt returned and they travelled somewhere else.

As usual, she left the market long before it had shut. She sold everything that she had in about an hour which left her the rest of the day to try to find some sparrow blood. The weather was nice. The days got longer and she decided that it would be a good idea to try her hand at making traps. She had spoken to a man in the market when she was at home once. He told her the basics behind making one and so she wanted to try her hand at it.

She had collected numerous large chunks of wood and started to cut them into strips that she could weave. There was no vine available for her to use so her only option was to make each part individually. She was there for hours trying to get as many even strips as possible. By the end of the day, her hands were blistered and rough from dealing with wood all day.

She brought the wood back to the inn with her and let it soak in a large pot of water. It would help soften the wood and hopefully make it easier for her to weave it. Cirilla knocked on her door and then entered. The princess had just had a bath and her hair was wet.

It was normal for her to braid the princess’ hair once she had washed. It was one of the things that helped them bond. It continued especially after Yennefer’s death and it was something they still did together. ‘Sit down and I’ll braid your hair.’

Cirilla smiled and sat with her back against Y/N. She quickly braided Cirilla’s long hair. ‘What are you doing with all of that wood?’ Cirilla pointed towards the pot and jerked her head forward a little. She let out a yelp at her hair being pulled.

‘Stop moving. You know this always happens.’ Y/N playfully slaps Cirilla before she continued to braid. ‘I’m trying to make some sparrow traps but I need the wood to soften before I can weave them.’

Cirilla offered to help which she accepted. It would mean that it would take half the time to make the traps and so she could try to set them up. It was all wishful thinking by that point. She had no experience in catching birds but she did not have much experience with making Witcher potions either. It was a time for a lot of firsts.

*

She and Cirilla woke early. She wanted to spend as much time as possible trying to make the traps so it would give her more time to lay them out. The women sat in silence as the wove the pieces of wood together into sheets that could be propped up with sticks.

They ventured into the forest together and Cirilla collected a handful of nuts that could be used as bait for the sparrows. Y/N dug a large enough hole for a sparrow to fall into and propped the woven sheet above it using a twig. She used a small piece of yarn that would pull the branch if it was tripped and hoped for the best.

With the rest of the day, she and Cirilla went to scavenge for some more herbs and food. Any money she could make from the forest was a bonus. It also helped her pass the time. That day, she learnt a lot from Cirilla. The princess taught her how to catch rabbits and other small animals. It was something that she learnt when she had to fend for herself after the collapse of Cintra.

She learnt about Dara, the elf, who found and helped Cirilla. It was the first time she learnt about the princess’ past. It was not a topic that was spoken about often but when it was, she listened intently. ‘Cirilla.’ Her voice was low. It seemed fitting for the setting. The tranquillity of the forest was beautiful. It reminded her of home. ‘You must miss him but you must also understand his pain.’

The princess nodded and sighed. She knew that the conversation was over so she rose to check on the trap they set earlier that day. It had fallen but she had little hope that there was an actual sparrow trapped in there. She walked over to it as quietly as she could, trying to hear if there was any sound from the trap.

To her surprise, there was the faint sound of a bird chirping. She moved the sheet a little to peek inside and there was a sparrow. She thanked the man from the market in her head and scooped the little bird into her hand before dispatching of it. She bled it into a vial she brought with her.

There was not a lot of it but there would be enough for a potion or two if she was lucky. She and Cirilla rushed back to the inn. They parted ways as they entered Sodden. Cirilla went to look for Triss whilst she went back to her room to make the tincture for Triss. The final step would be for the mage to use some magic to make it the black liquid Geralt needed.

She was glad that there was no specific measurement of each ingredient, just that there needed to be enough to fill the whole vial. With the ingredients she had, there was enough to make two vials of the potion. She was glad as it was difficult to get the sparrow blood and it was likely sheer luck that she caught one on the first day she laid the trap.

*

It took Triss a matter of seconds to make the potion an actual potion and Y/N thanked the mage with dinner. Jaskier and Cirilla joined them. The atmosphere was already light but it was further improved by Jaskier debuting his new song. It had nothing on Toss a Coin to Your Witcher but they all liked it. Geralt would be unamused once he heard but musically, it was not a bad song.

A meal with friends helped take her mind off of Geralt. She worried about him when he was away and it didn’t help when he came back battered and bruised. She hated those nights when he returned to her injured far more than his body could heal, even with his Witcher genes.

It scared her. He was not invincible and sometimes it seemed as if he forgot that. She always took care of him and begged that he would be more careful the next time and he always would. But it never stopped him from getting injured each time. It almost seemed as if he got progressively more injured as time went on.

*

It was near midnight when the door to her room opened and Geralt entered. His clothes were ripped and she could see dried blood around multiple wounds through them. She rushed to him but did not touch him in fear that she would worsen his injuries. ‘Geralt! What happened to you?’ She did a once-over as he pulled her close to him and kissed the top of her head.

She forced him to sit before she rushed to find the vials she made earlier that evening. ‘It’s nothing.’ She did not miss the way he gritted his teeth as he grunted out two words. He was in a lot of pain and she knew it. She handed a vial to Geralt and he poured it over his wounds. The hiss made her wince but then the wounds were gone.

‘Bath. Now.’ She made her way to the boiling pot of water and poured it into the tub. She was going to bathe herself but Geralt was in dire need of one. He needed it far more than she did. He stripped down and crawled into the bath.

She found him attractive even when he was dirty and covered in blood. His body was littered with scars and she never asked about them. If he ever wanted to talk about them, he would but he hadn’t.

She helped wash all of the grime off of him and after she washed each patch of his skin, she’d kiss it gently. He relaxed at her touch the way he always did and she just felt so grateful that he made it back to her. She washed out his hair and wrapped her arms around him and pulled herself to the back of his body and just swayed.

She closed her eyes and relished in the feeling of his presence. It was one thing that she really missed when he was gone. She liked just knowing that he was there with her. They did not even have to speak. She simply enjoyed existing next to him. There was little more that she could ask for.

When the water ran cold, Geralt stepped out and followed her back to their room. He was exhausted and collapsed on the bed. She held his large body until he fell asleep. It was usually the other way around but he needed to know that she was looking over him. He was exhausted and badly injured. She needed to remember and know that he was with her. The best way was to just watch him.

Her mind drifted to the fact that she had one vial left and they were likely going to leave in the morning. Geralt had completed his hunt and so they would likely have to go to another village or town so Geralt could find more work. That meant that she likely did not have any time to make another potion and even if she could, she would need a mage to turn the mixture into the potion.

It was dangerous for them to travel like that. She knew that Geralt always liked to have a few on hand in case of emergencies but the past few weeks felt like a barrage of emergencies and they had no more supplies for it. She could try to convince Geralt to let them stay for another day but she knew that he would not allow it.

He thought it was too dangerous for them to stay in any one place for too long. It would allow Nilfgaard to find them and it was the last thing that he wanted. It was too much of a risk. He had just gotten her back and he would not let anyone take her from him.


	7. Chapter 7

*

They did not leave Sodden as soon as daylight broke the way Geralt intended. Geralt, whilst healed, was not entirely in peak condition. At some point in the evening, he stopped wincing as he moved but she did not want him on the road until he was completely better. ‘It would be more of a risk to us as a group, Geralt. One more day, just until you’re better.’ She peppered kisses on his face and neck until he relented. A single, low-toned grunt was enough to let her know that she had won.

She lay in bed with Geralt for a while. The pair of them basked in the other’s breathing. The presence and awareness of the other’s life. It was more than enough for her to exist with him. ‘We are going to get a house.’ Geralt’s voice was dangerously low. She closed her eyes and hummed in response as her head nodded against his arm. ‘I mean it. We are getting a home. I’m sorry you had to leave your old one.’

Between the pair of them, they were close enough to saving enough money for a little cottage nearby. She was excited to do so as it would be cheaper than renting a room every night but what she really wanted was a home again. The thought of having one with Geralt made her smile. ‘I trust you, Geralt.’ She is not really sure of what else she can say but that. It summed up everything she felt towards him. 

She wanted her own bed to sleep in and her own pots to cook in. That was their goal as a couple. She felt a sense of longing, however. She wanted to own a home with her husband and she did not think that it would be something that Geralt would give her. It was not that she was against living with Geralt before marriage but she liked the idea of marriage.

*

She went to the woods later that day for the umpteenth day in a row. With the sparrow trap in hand, she wanted to catch one more. She wanted to make one more potion for Geralt as he was down to one. She just needed enough to make sure that he was okay.

She still had enough herbs back in the room in the inn so she lay the trap down and hoped for the best. There was little she could do but wait, really. In that time, she scavenged the woods in hope that there would be something she could sell at the market.

It was peaceful in the woods and she hoped more than anything that it would be the last time that she was actually there to make money for a home. If things went right, Geralt would need one more hunt before they were able to buy it outright. That was the real aim.

By nightfall, the trap was still empty. She sighed and walked back to the inn with a basket full of various herbs, berries, and nuts. It was not the result that she intended but her saving grace was being able to return to Geralt’s arms. It was all she really wanted after a long day.

*

Dinner was waiting for her upon her arrival. Geralt had waited for her before he ate so they could eat together. He loved being able to spend time with her. Not that he would properly admit it, but she knew. ‘Where were you today?’ Geralt stuffed a bite of bread in his mouth before he washed it down with a swig of ale.

‘I was in the woods. I tried to catch a sparrow to make some more of your potion.’ She shrugged her shoulders in disappointment and ate a mouthful of stew. ‘I did manage to collect some stuff that we can sell at the market before we leave tomorrow, though.’ Her tone was happy as she indicated towards the full basket.

Geralt smiled lightly. He grabbed her hand from across the table and brought it to his lips. He was known to be a brute opposed to a gentleman and the gentle gesture made her heart swell. It was so tender and something Geralt only really ever showed her or Cirilla. ‘Thank you.’

She only smiled back at him as she stared deeply into his amber eyes. She loved them. Geralt had expressed to her numerous times just how much he hated them. They, along with his hair, were constant reminders of the process that took him to become a Witcher. He felt as if they taunted him as he could have had a much more different life. A normal one. ‘I love you.’ 

Geralt looked at her with absolute wonder. After all that he had put her through yet, she was still able to love him. It amazed him. He had hurt her so much, and so badly, yet she took him in again after Yennefer. He did so much for her. ‘I love you too.’ Hearing those words from him still felt so foreign. 

She knew that Geralt loved her but it was rare for him to verbally express it. That made the times he did verbalise it that much more significant. She loved hearing it and she wanted to hear it every single day for the rest of her life. 

They found and said goodbye to Triss before they returned to their bedroom. The mage had helped them a lot in the time that they had been in Sodden. And she had developed a friendship with the beautiful sorceress in that time too. She promised to visit again as soon as the cottage was brought.

*

Geralt practically pulled her towards him. He kissed her furiously and snaked his arms down and bunched her skirt up to reach up her leg but she stopped him. ‘Geralt.’ She was breathless from his kiss. ‘You are still injured. Not tonight.’

Geralt kissed her neck and sucked at it making sure he left marks in the hopes that she would change her mind but she held firm. ‘I’m fine, I promise.’ She scowled at Geralt and kissed him. As pleased as he was, she did not intend to let him win. 

‘You’re fine, but not completely better.’ She smirked as he sighed. Whilst she was acutely aware that he was far stronger than her, she knew that he would not force her into anything that she did not want to do. She loved that about him. 

As a peace offering, she prepared a bath for him. Boiling hot, the way he liked them. He got in the bath with a groan. He loved baths; they were one of the few things that he really found to be enjoyable. She climbed in to join him and peppered light kisses on his bare, broad chest. Being in the bath with Geralt was one of her favourite things. They never got much cleaner but it was nice to have his arms wrapped around her as they were encased in warm water.

‘Are you still grumpy?’ She poked Geralt’s chest and smiled at him. He grunted and she felt the vibration from his throat. Nevertheless, he smiled back at her then kissed the top of her head. ‘I’ll take that as a no, then.’

Geralt chucked against her and she felt sheer bliss. She pouted when Geralt pulled away from her and got out of the water. Whilst it had gone cold, she hated when she could not feel him anymore. ‘Love, we have an early start tomorrow. You need to get some sleep.’

She huffed and left the tub of cold water reluctantly. To make it up to her, Geralt kissed her deeply. His tongue slid into hers and she sighed into his mouth. ‘Better?’ He cocked an eyebrow at her while she nodded in response. 

They got dressed in silence and Geralt guided her back to their bed. She lay down with him next to her and fell asleep in the same way she did whenever he was with her: peacefully. His presence in her life brought far more peace than it brought chaos. She felt inner peace when she was with him. She felt peace about herself, the sort of peace she thought she lost when he left.

*

They left the inn before daylight broke. She was exhausted from the early start but she was pleased to spend some time with Roach again. The horse nudged her head against the palm of her human’s favourite person. ‘Are you looking for a treat, Roach?’ The horse neighed in response and she pulled a carrot from her basket. ‘Here you go! I brought one from the chefs last night.’

She laughed as the horse quickly ate the treat offered to her. ‘You don’t need to do so much for her, you know?’ She looked at Geralt in confusion. They were on foot to an unknown destination. Geralt briefly mentioned it but she could not remember the specifics.

‘What do you mean?’ Geralt pointed towards Roach. She rolled her eyes at the Witcher who grunted in response. ‘I love Roach and I want to give her a treat every once in a while. Isn’t that right?’ She scratched the horse’s head as Geralt pulled it along.

They walked for hours until Jaskier complained of hunger. That led them to stop in a small town where roughly one hundred people lived. There was not much there but as soon as Geralt arrived, the mayor of the town ran towards him with a certain air of panicked urgency.

‘Witcher!’ The foul looking man screamed at Geralt. She tried to hide her disdain at the rudeness directed towards her boyfriend. ‘Witcher! We need your help.’ She scoffed a little at the thought. The rude little man needed Geralt’s help.

‘Yes?’ Geralt looked the man up and down before he settled on a cold gaze. She, Cirilla, and Jaskier stepped away from the situation. They were close enough to hear everything but not too close that the Mayor would pay them any mind.

‘Please help us, Witcher. We have a Ghoul.’ The man looked and sounded desperate. She liked that. ‘We will pay you three thousand orens if you rid us of it. We already have the money.’ The mayor spoke very quickly and she couldn’t help but scoff again.

Geralt nodded and the man told him all about the situation. Once that was over, the mayor arranged lodgings for them all as Geralt went to find the monster. She was not entirely happy with the idea as something felt wrong. She was unsure of what it was but she did not like it.

Geralt managed to sway her by reminding her of the cottage and how close they were to being able to afford it. ‘One more hunt. That’s all we need, okay?’ He tucked some hair behind her ear and kissed her lips. It was a promise and she nodded.

*

Once they were shown and settled in the little rooms the mayor offered them, Geralt picked up his sword and the potion. He then walked over to her and kissed her. He was dominant. In control. And he needed her to feel that. She needed to know that he was in control and that everything would be okay. ‘Do you have to go?’ She sounded needy and vulnerable. 

She didn’t want to sound so pathetic but something did not sit right with her after the past few weeks. Before that day, she never properly feared for her, or Geralt’s, safety. She never had a reason to fear but then it changed. Nilfgaard scared her more than most could ever imagine. Geralt nodded and wiped a stray tear from her face.

But she trusted him and so she said her goodbyes. He promised her of his return and how he wanted to own a home with her. ‘I will be back before you even realise.’ She kissed him one last time and then watched him go. The uneasy knot in her stomach did not dissipate with his assurances. Instead, the knot dug harder. 

*

She sighed and went to Cirilla’s room. She knocked on the door and waited patiently as the princess let her in. ‘How are you, Cirilla?’ She knew that the princess hated moving so much. Like herself, Cirilla, liked stability and being on the road offered none of that.

‘I’m good, thank you.’ The princess smiled sweetly but it did not meet her eyes. Something was wrong but she could not place her finger on it. The princess sat at the end of the bed and played with her fingers. She shifted uncomfortably before she sat down next to her.

She held the princess’ hand and sighed. ‘You can speak to me, you know?’ Cirilla looked at her before she was pulled into a hug. She stroked the head of the younger girl and smoothed her hair down. ‘You’re okay. You’re okay.’

It took a while before the princess spoke. ‘I miss Yennefer.’ The sadness enveloped her voice. It was more than missing a friend, but rather, one of missing a parent. Someone loved. ‘I just wish that she was here. And my mother. And my grandmother.’ By then, Cirilla was sobbing. Her body shook in the older woman’s.

‘You’re okay, you’re okay.’ It was all she was able to say to Cirilla. To reassure her that she was safe and that she was allowed to feel upset and mourn. ‘Take all the time you need. You’re allowed to miss them and want to be with them. Cry it all out.’

Cirilla nodded her head. ‘There’s just so much death. Like in Sodden. Nilfgaard don’t care.’ The princess was completely devastated. All she could do was listen and comfort. It was not a time for trying to fix the problem. It was a time for her to be there for Cirilla. ‘They just kill and kill and kill. For power.’

‘I know.’ She kissed the top of Cirilla’s head as the girl pulled into her. She let her mind drift back to Geralt. She had no idea where the Ghoul was specifically but it unsettled her. She knew enough about them from folklore to know that they liked to eat human flesh. She shut her eyes and tried to fight off the thoughts of him dying.

She tried to focus on the roar of the fire. The crackling used to soothe all of her fears but it did not do that this time. Instead, the soft glow gave her images of damnation. She feared the death of Geralt so much. She feared her own death. The Ghoul could kill any of them. It made her sick that Geralt would be out there with the creature.

*

She was woken by a scream that went through her body. Whoever it was sounded like they were about to be slaughtered. She ran to block the door with a chair but she knew that it would do little to keep her safe but the knowledge of it being there helped a little. And then it struck her. It had to be the Ghoul.

There was nothing else that could instil fear in a person like a beast, and she knew that there was one around. The next to strike her was grief. If the Ghoul was in the inn, Geralt had failed. There was no way that he would let the beast get so close to her, Cirilla, or Jaskier. If it was there, then it had taken Geralt.

The thought slowed her down. Her brain was focused on one thing: Geralt. Her heart broke at the thought of him dying in pain. She felt a pain greater than the one she felt when he left and she thought that he would never return. It felt more permanent than that. It was a dizzying, debilitating pain that made her cry and scrunch her eyes. She did not want it to be real.

And then she heard a thud. Something fell to the floor, she knew that much. She did not, however, know if it was a human or not. She hoped that by some miracle Geralt was alive but the probability of that being the case when the monster was in such close proximity seemed impossible.

*

The room spun as she tried to steady her breathing. It was the banging at the door that shook her to the core. Was she next? She looked around for anything she could defend herself with but there was nothing. Not even a plank of wood. ‘Y/N?’ The voice belonged to Geralt. It was Geralt. He was alive.

She ran to rip the chair from the door and let him in. She knew that Ghouls did not possess the ability to imitate so she knew that she was safe. All of the fear dissipated from her body as she jumped into Geralt’s arms. He was bloody and messy but she did not care. He held her just as tightly and she took his face in her hands to see that it was really him.

‘You’re okay.’ She said it to reassure herself just as much as it was for him. He nodded and set her down on the bed. ‘You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay. I love you.’ She was in tears and Geralt held her until she had calmed down. 

He explained the situation and showed her the pouch of orens. The Ghoul was a nasty creature and it had chosen Jaskier to be its next meal but Geralt had tracked it. He spoke of the fear that the Ghoul could have chosen her but he slayed the filthy thing before it touched their friend. She chuckled slightly at the idea of Jaskier’s newest song. She hoped that it would be just as good as ‘Toss a Coin to Your Witcher’. 

She cupped Geralt’s face once again and saw that his eyes were still dark from the potion. She had no idea how much longer the effects would last but they both knew that he had no more. She had to try and source some sparrow’s blood soon.

Geralt’s head darted up and he put a finger to his lips. She did not understand what happened or what he heard but she complied. It was when the footsteps got closer that she understood the gravity of the situation: Nilfgaard had found them.


	8. Chapter 8

Nilfgaardian soldiers paced the corridor and inspected each room. They were meticulous. Every inch of every room was ransacked in their quest to find Geralt and Cirilla. She could hear items being thrown around through the paper-thin walls of the inn.

The creaking of the wooden floor let her know just how close it was until they found her. Each thud grew louder and closer which contributed to the ominous feeling around her. It was as if she were about to be executed. They were getting close. She heard their voices as they got closer. There was a sinister cruelness in the way they spoke and she shivered as a result.

Geralt motioned for her to hide as he drew his sword from its sheath. They had found Jaskier. She knew his screams from anywhere. The cries of her friend sent shivers down her spine. She finally understood why Geralt had been so insistent that she was not in the room that was the closest to the staircase. She did feel guilty, however, that Jaskier was there and it could have been her in that situation.

Was this the end? She had never expected her life to end at the hands of Nilfgaard. In fact, she had not even considered it a possibility until that day they arrived at her home. Her old home. When they ransacked it. That was the moment she finally understood the Continent-wide fear of the Nilfgaardians. They were brutal and murderous. 

Tears fell down her face and she tried to steady her breathing. She could not even call it fear anymore. It was different. More chilling. It struck every chord in her body and sent a painful ice through her. This was not the way that she wanted to go. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the chaos around her. She wanted to run. Run away to somewhere safe. But there was nowhere safe anymore. 

The clang of swords made her cover her ears and tremble. She had always thought of herself as brave but this was beyond her normal. At no point in her life did she expect her life to be entwined with magic. She was not born into a family with any yet every aspect of her life was now so woven with it. 

Her heart raced and her head pulsed. She tried her hardest not to make a sound. It was difficult when all she wanted to do was whimper. Her heart raced and her head span. The room was moving as if she were drunk. She was shaken from her mind when Geralt roughly pulled her outside where Cirilla and an injured Jaskier met them. 

Geralt had killed the soldiers inside of the inn and they were on the run again. Geralt led them through the forest. He knew how to navigate through them and pointed them in that direction as he went to the back of the group. He was on watch for any other soldiers. To protect them from any surprise attacks from the back.

They made it about an hour further into the forest until Jaskier’s injuries slowed them down. He bled through the hastily wrapped bandages and complained of light-headedness. It was not a good sign and she had no idea what other injuries he may have sustained. 

*

| A series of loud bangs and crashes roused him from his sleep. Something felt wrong. He had accompanied Geralt on many a hunt and the only time there was ever such noise was when the beast was nearby. He was too young, and far too pretty, to die. 

His mortality scared him. Being around Geralt and Cirilla, fear generally escaped him. They did not fear death as much as he and it may be due to the magic that ran through them. Not being near them reminded him of that fact. He gulped as the Ghoul entered his room. 

The vile creature threw open the door which sent shards and fragments of wood around the room. An ear-splitting scream left his mouth. It was a sound he was not aware that he could even make. There was something so haunting about how filled with terror he sounded. 

He tried to fight down the rising bile as he visibly paled. It grabbed and tossed him into the wall. Adrenaline hit him and he tried to run. They ate corpses, after all. However, he did not make it very far until the Ghoul wrapped its cold hands around him and tried to choke him. 

Where was Geralt? He was close to meeting his maker and it was not the way he wanted to go. Not at all. He started to lose bits of his vision. It was not a lot but it was enough to know that his situation was deadly. Then came the sharp pain above his knee. He was not able to look down but even if he could, he would not have been able to see. Not with the spots in his vision.

When he opens his eyes again, Geralt stood over him and the Ghoul was on the other side of the room. It was dead. Jaskier knew that much. He thanked Geralt and went to another room in the corridor. He could try and get some sleep before they would head off in the morning. At least he thought. |

*

They did not have the time to rest but there was no way that Jaskier was able to proceed in is condition. ‘Leave me. I will only slow you down.’ Geralt snarled as he placed the bard on Roach. She saw that Jaskier had to actively fight the urge to scream. Tears had collected in his eyes and he let out a weak whimper as they started to move again.

Jaskier kept pleading to let him off of the horse citing that the light bounce was aggravating his injuries too much. ‘That is not happening. Stay on the horse and shut up.’ She was shocked about how stern she sounded. It was as if she had picked up on some of Geralt’s abrasiveness. She did not mince her words and she purposely left no room for argument. 

She held onto Roach’s reigns as Cirilla led the group with Geralt flanking the back. In theory, they would be covered from all angles but she had heard stories of that witch, Fringilla, and if the stories were true, they would not get very far. The mage would be able to track them using some sort of forbidden magic. That much she knew. 

And then they heard it. A single snap of a branch made her aware that Nilfgaard were there. Soldiers emerged from behind the trees and she gasped. They were outnumbered. Fifteen men were too many for them. Seven were too many for them, even. If Cirilla was unable to use her powers they would stand no chance. She could only hope that Yennefer had taught her enough for the princess to be able to control it.

Surrounded and unable to fight, she looked to Geralt for some reassurance. There wasn’t any. Geralt was prepared to fight. She saw it in his stance. Nilfgaard made the first move. The commander screamed for them to attack. One soldier grabbed her and held her by her neck. She struggled against her attacker but it proved futile. She kicked and tried to hit the person holding her but the grip was too tight.

A blade was pressed to her throat and she stilled. To say that she was in a precarious situation would be an understatement. In spite of the immediate danger she found herself in, there was a little humour to it. How the fuck did she end up in that situation? Maybe her sense of self-preservation had been significantly reduced due to her severe exhaustion.

*

It was as if time stilled. Geralt still had some of the enhancement from the potion that had mostly worn off. He watched her get snatched in slow motion and his one goal was to make sure those he cared about made it out alive. Geralt waited for some soldiers to approach him. She would have died if he made the first move. They did not have the upper hand and Geralt had to improvise.

Geralt exchanged a look with the princess. They had a plan, that much was clear, but she did not know what they would do. Geralt’s aim was to kill the man that had Y/N so that Cirilla would be able to use her powers. When the men were knocked to the floor, he would be able to slaughter them. Stop them from telling anyone where they were.

She was terrified. She was held by a creature that wanted to kill her as Geralt watched scornfully. As much as she trusted him, she felt genuine terror. They type of terror that would have tested the trust between any two people. And then she saw it all unfold from the confines of the soldier’s arms.

Two soldiers charged at Geralt and they were easily disposed of by the Witcher. He looked almost elegant as he made easy work of all of two idiots that dared to fight him. More Nilfgaardian soldiers approached her partner and her heart dropped. Would he be able to fight all of them off? Some of them had more than one sword and Geralt was a single man.

Even when he picked up the sword of a slain Nilfgaardian, she was still unsure if Geralt would make it out alive. Cirilla had fought and killed a soldier in the time that it took for her hostage taker to move further and further away from the battle. But then it stopped.

The arms around her neck had loosened significantly but the weight of the falling body dragged her down too. Her fall was broken by the body of her taker but she felt a wetness soak into her dress. Blood. It had to be. She scrambled away from the body as quickly as she could and when she looked up, she was greeted with Cirilla’s outstretched hand. ‘Thank you.’ Cirilla just smiled and handed her a dagger. It felt heavy in her hands. Like she should not have had it. 

‘Now.’ Geralt roared and she did not understand what he meant until Cirilla screamed. It cut through the air in a way she had never felt. Not even with all of the supernatural encounters she had. It was almost instant as she was knocked to the floor and incapable of getting back up. An unknown force held her against the ground and it had even knocked Roach and Jaskier down.

It took a few seconds after Cirilla had stopped screaming for her to regain her senses. Geralt had already gotten up and had started to slay the Nilfgaardians. Cirilla joined him and so did she. It was a horrible experience. Her first kill. Many would argue that it was wrong as they were defenceless but it did not matter. Her hands trembled as she did it. The dagger unsteady in her hands but she needed to do it.

It was about survival. There was no way that she would allow any of them to jeopardise their lives. They would not make it out alive. Geralt checked every single body to ensure that their whereabouts could not be tracked.

*

‘Should we make our way back to Sodden?’ She broke the silence. Whilst they had won one battle, there were still many more challenges they would inevitably have to face. But for there to be another battle, they had to stay alive. ‘Jaskier is in no fit state to go any further. He needs to see Triss.’

Geralt was reluctant but agreed. They had no supplies to treat him. She spent the journey back trying to prevent Jaskier from falling asleep. It was far too dangerous if he did. Bar their light chat and Jaskier’s occasional moans, the trip back was deathly quiet. There was nothing really for them to speak about. Not really.

Nobody wanted to speak of their mortality. Nobody wanted to celebrate their escape, either. It did not feel appropriate. 

*

Geralt got a room in the inn as she ran to find Triss. She was grateful that the mage was where she usually was: in front of the open fire in the centre of the town. Triss liked to be there and it could not be ignored that the soft glow illuminated her beauty. ‘You’re back.’ Triss’ smile was warm but it fell when she saw her bloodstained friend touting a petrified look.

‘Please follow me. I need your help.’ She stumbled over her words in haste. There was no time for her to properly explain but she was grateful that Triss felt the severity of the situation. She sprinted towards the inn with Triss on her tail.   
When she entered the room where Jaskier lay on the bed, she felt a wet stain on the front of Geralt’s top. When she moved her fingers away from it and looked down, they were red. Red from blood. She did not miss the small hiss that he made when she touched the area so she surmised that it was Geralt’s blood. ‘Geralt. Why didn’t you say something?’

She tried to remove his clothing to assess the wound but the Witcher was stubborn. He tried to fight off her help but when he realised that she would not stop, his resistance lessened. ‘This reminds me of when we first properly met.’ Geralt let out a wry laugh. She tried not to look alarmed when she saw the deep cut on his torso. 

She tried to stop the wound as best as she could but she needed Triss’ help. He needed more than some bandages and herbs. They cut was too deep for him to heal on his own. ‘Why would that be?’ She smiled softly and knew that he knew the answer. Unsurprisingly, he played along to make her feel better. She loved him for that. Even when he said that he did not get involved or attached, she knew better.

She pinched his wound closed which elicited a hiss. She stroked his face with her other hand and tried to calm him. ‘Well, if I remember correctly, I had to fix you back up then too.’ She kissed him gently and he closed his eyes. If he died then, he would have been a happy man. He was in the arms of the woman he loved. And she loved him back. Not only that, but she had forgiven him and wanted to start a life with him.

His skin looked thinner when she looked at him again. She could see all of his veins and it was then that she cried for Triss. Geralt’s eyes closed slightly and she assumed that he had grown weaker due to the loss of blood. She tried to keep his eyes open but Geralt insisted that he was too tired.

The mage span to face her and started to chant something in a language she did not understand. It gave Geralt a little strength but not much. It was just enough for both women to take him to a separate room and lay him on the bed. Triss continued her healing of Geralt as Y/N sat beside him holding his cold, limp hand.

‘He will need some rest but he will be just fine.’ Triss smiled and handed her some bandages before she returned to Jaskier’s room. Y/N hugged her friend and thanked her. She tried to offer the mage some money which was refused.

*

She sat on the chair beside Geralt the entire night. She lightly finger-combed his white hair and hoped that he would recover quickly. She checked Geralt’s bandages every few hours in fear of him bleeding through them. Sleep did not come for her that night in spite of her exhaustion.

There was too much and uncertainty for her to have been comfortable with the idea of finding solace in sleep. Instead, she spoke to Geralt in the hopes that he’d hear her pleas to get better. ‘The sooner you get better, the sooner we can buy that little cottage.’ She closed her eyes and imagined their life together. ‘A home. We’ll have a home.’ 

Her voice was low and desperate. She wanted him to wake up and get better. She needed him to be okay. She squeezed his hand in the hope that he would know that she was there and that she loved him. ‘Geralt.’ Tears fell onto the bed. She feared that something else would happen. ‘You have to wake up so you can hear that I’m not mad at you anymore. I trust you. I love you, Geralt. I love you.’ 

She tried to keep her sobs as quiet as possible to prevent anyone from checking up on her. She did not want them to worry for her. They did not need to. She was an adult capable of dealing with tough situations. Maybe she did need a little help; they had all been through a lot that day. ‘Wake up, Geralt.’

*

She woke up unsure of when sleep took over her but her body was stiff. The chair was uncomfortable but she was sure that the physical exertion from the previous day had contributed to the ache too. Geralt looked slightly better. Some colour had returned to his skin and she decided that it would be okay to leave him to take a bath.

The hot water soothed her body and her mind. She finally had a moment to think and be alone. It was the moment when she let herself weep. She let every last emotion leave her body. All of the pain, fear, and anger that was contained within her had fallen into the water she sat in. She cried for so long that the water was not even lukewarm and she had no tears left. 

Nobody disturbed her and for that she was grateful. She needed some time to process the events of the past day and how close to death and loss she was. But she too cried in happiness and gratitude. Gratitude for Triss. A friend.

*

In an effort to distract herself, she went into the woods with another sparrow trap she made after her bath. She did not ever want for there to be a repeat of the night before where Geralt had to fight without any assistance. 

She was determined to get some sparrow’s blood but she was also aware that it was too risky and unsustainable to have to hunt them each time. There had to be another way to make it easier. 

She placed one trap onto the forest floor and went about to scavenge for the herbs that were needed for the potion. They were pretty easy to find and she was sure that she could sell the rest at the market in the morning so she did not worry about picking too much. By the time dusk fell, her basket was full and she had a sparrow in the trap. It was a pretty small one but she estimated that she would be able to make at least one potion with that and she could sell the rest of the blood as it would spoil. 

*

Geralt was still asleep when she got back so she paid the inn keeper for another night of lodging. She then brought dinner for herself, Triss, and Cirilla. All three women were exhausted, both mentally and physically. 

‘How long are you here for, Triss?’ The feeling of a hot meal brought a level of comfort comparable to putting on warm clothing or sitting in front of a fire on a snowy day.

The mage thought for a second. ‘Until Nilfgaard are defeated.’ She looked regretful. The mage felt guilt for not being able to prevent Nilfgaard from attacking any of the other towns beforehand. ‘The brotherhood will not send any more mages and we have only been able to defend ourselves. I might be here forever.’

She felt her heart sink at the concept. Nilfgaard had unrooted everybody’s lives in the search for power and she never thought that she would be able to despise an empire as much as she hated them. Pain and chaos followed them. Destruction and death followed.

*

Triss helped her with the potion after their meal. Cirilla went to check on Jaskier who was also still healing. She felt like a terrible person for not thinking about Jaskier as all of her attention was focused upon Geralt.

They worked in silence. She feared messing up the potion so much so that every movement she made was intentional. She measured everything as best as she could despite Triss’ insistence she did not need to. 

Triss made a larger batch of the potion instead of letting Y/N sell the rest of the sparrow blood. It meant that Geralt had a little spare if he needed to heal himself after a hunt. She was grateful for Triss and her ingenuity. 

*

Geralt was sitting when she checked up on him. He still did not look very well but he looked better than he did in the morning. And for that she was grateful. ‘You’re awake.’ She smiled. A real one. 

Geralt nodded and reached his arms out for her to cuddle into. Her face was buried in his chest hair and she felt safe. She belonged in his arms and she intended to stay there. ‘We will buy the cottage tomorrow.’ Geralt kissed the top of her head and she looked at him in admiration. She really did love him.

‘You’re not well yet. We have enough money to stay in the inn for a few more nights.’ She tried to reason but her Witcher was still stubborn. He wanted to give her the cottage and the life she wanted. 

‘I heard what you said last night.’ She was stunned. She did not expect him to have heard it. She was embarrassed. It was not something she had intended for him to hear but it was her fault for saying it in the first place.


	9. Chapter 9

*

It took over a week before Geralt was well enough to be on his feet again. He had insisted for many days prior that he was capable of standing on his own and returning to daily life but she refused. She feared for the worst. It was difficult not to, considering the circumstances they found themselves in. Nilfgaard would always be a fear of hers and since that night it had only increased tenfold.

She was grateful that Jaskier had made a full recovery a few days before Geralt and the bard was back to writing songs. He had a few ideas for another one for the Butcher of Blaviken that would inevitably annoy the Witcher when he heard it. 

As much as it felt as if life had stopped for her, she knew that it went on around her. She tried her hardest to get on with life as usual but it felt wrong when Geralt was not completely well. She never wanted a situation like that to happen again so she tried to think of a way to prevent it.

There were only so many sparrows she would be able to catch so she needed a way to have a constant supply. Her only thought was to raise them. The same way she did with her livestock when she had a home. But that did not negate the issue of her lack of magic. Each time she would need a potion made, she’d have to get Triss to help her or another mage. Whilst Geralt would be able to create the potions, she did not want to burden him when he was unwell or if he was on a hunt, she would need Triss.

In the days Geralt was bedridden, she took Roach out for rides. The horse was not used to the lack of exercise so they went to the woods together often. At times, Cirilla would join them but the princess spent a lot of time by Geralt’s side. She did not want to lose another parent so she stayed with him for hours. She ate very little but it improved when Jaskier was better.

*

The woods were damp from the heavy rainfall the night prior. It reduced much of the noise from her and Roach which helped prevent scaring the wildlife as they went around collecting herbs and laying sparrow traps. It became a routine. She’d go to the woods, the market, and then back to the inn for days on end. It was a way for pay for their lodging without using the money they saved for the house.

It kept her busy and for that she was grateful. There was only so much she could do by Geralt’s side. Many evenings were spent with Triss trying to get Cirilla out from her own head. It was mostly unsuccessful but the princess’ fear was understandable. ‘Each time I’ve had to leave. I don’t want to this time.’ She could not fault the princess but it pained her to see the girl so tormented.

‘Cirilla. Triss has confirmed that Geralt will be okay.’ She pulled the princess in for a hug. ‘You don’t have to watch him all day, I promise.’ Her words did little to comfort Cirilla but it did stop the heaviest sobs.   
*

When Geralt woke she was relieved. Whilst she knew he would, there was an unsettling absence in her life without him. To keep him in bed, she had to bargain. He repeatedly insisted that he would be fine if she let him. ‘Maybe I can convince you to stay in bed.’ She started to unbutton her dress in front of him. 

That stopped Geralt from climbing out of the bed the second she turned her back. She sat on the bed next to him and the Witcher brought his lips to hers. She was not aware of just how she had missed his touch until his hands roamed across her neck and then down her shoulders. His large hands were rough despite them not being used.

‘Maybe I need to spend a little more time in bed.’ Geralt’s already deep voice grew husky and heavy with lust. She grins and pulls him back in for another kiss. Her fingers tangle in his hair and she moves her legs up to straddle him. His hands dipped beneath her skirt and made their way to her slit. ‘So fucking wet.’

He tugs at her bottom lip with his teeth and she sighs into his touch. Geralt’s fingers expertly push her underwear to the side as his fingers dive into her wet folds. Her body had become his home and he knew how to touch and stroke her. She mewls and cries as his fingers massage her sex and coat themselves in her arousal. ‘Geralt, more.’ She bucks her hips as he adds another finger before he pulls them out of her. ‘No.’ She pouts and cries at the loss of contact until Geralt moves until he’s laying down with his cock in his hand.

She understood the not so subtle message Geralt was giving her and lined his erect cock towards her entrance. Slowly, she sank down relishing in the feeling of being filled by him. Stretched by his large size, she took her time bouncing on his dick. One of Geralt’s gripped her hip whilst the other played with her breast. He tugged at her nipple until her back was arched. 

She felt the knot tighten in her stomach the more she rode Geralt. Colours clouded her vision as she reached down to play with her clit. She cried and mewled as Geralt guided her on his cock. She ground her hips against him, her arousal soaking her thighs and his. 

When the knot in her stomach snapped, she cried and her walls clenched around Geralt. He continued to guide her body to find his own pleasure. His strong hands gripped at her tighter as he found his own release. ‘Maybe staying in bed is not too bad an idea.’

Geralt pulled her towards him and kissed the top of her head. ‘Yeah, maybe you should have listened to me in the first place.’ She poked his chest and his deep laugh filled the room. His laugh vibrated through her. It was a sound that she missed when he was healing.

‘We’re getting the cottage in the morning.’ She grew tired in his arms but relished in the feeling of his chest hair against her cheek. She tried to protest but could not. She was content. ‘I love you.’

She felt a stray tear fall down her cheek and onto her chest. ‘I love you too.’ It was all Geralt needed to hear. She loved him. He knew that but he felt a swell in his heart. She had forgiven him. He knew that much and it was all he needed to hear. 

*

When daylight broke, Geralt had already woken. She whimpered as she woke to an empty bed. It was cold without the Witcher. She wiped the sleep from her eyes as she left the bed to look for him. The cool morning air nipped at her bare thighs. ‘Geralt?’ She called for him to be met with Geralt walking in with a towel wrapped around his waist. 

There was a scar from where he was stabbed. She knew that it would grow fainter in colour fairly soon but the large pink scar was a reminder of when she almost lost him. ‘Get ready soon, we’re getting the cottage as soon as you’re ready.’ Geralt kissed her gently and she ran to take a bath.

He made Cirilla and Jaskier aware that he and Y/N were going to check out of the inn and buy the cottage that morning. His next task was to thank Triss. She was the reason that he was still alive and Geralt knew that the mage kept Y/N sane during his time in recovery. He was also aware that she helped create the potions. For that, he was more than grateful. The mage was a true friend. That was rare in his line of work. And hers too.

Geralt packed up the room and waited for Y/N to get ready. He had already spoken to the owner about reserving the cottage as an owed favour so there was no real need to rush. However, the Witcher could wait no longer to give Y/N back what he stole by entering her life. No matter how many times she told him to not feel guilty, he could not get that pang to leave his heart.

He felt responsible for the pain that was inflicted upon her. For some, he was responsible and for others, it was because of him that she was hurt. It was his fault that she had to leave her home and he stood by it.

However, it would be the start of their lives. A new chapter.

*

The cottage was in a small section of the woods not far off of where she collected most of the supplies for the market and potions. It had ivy trailing up the walls and despite looking a little derelict, it was in decent condition. ‘A home.’ She felt tears well in her eyes but she did not fight to stop them. ‘I have a home again.’

Geralt opened the door into the cottage and they were welcomed into a new life. She had a chance to rebuilt her life and lay down some roots for good. The Brotherhood would not leave without the fall of Nilfgaard and so they were safe. She was safe. ‘I’m sorry for the past but I hope that this can be the start of my apology.’

She kissed Geralt lightly. Words were not needed. He understood that she accepted his apology, not for the fact that he made one, but for the fact that she understood that her own choices still made him feel guilty. ‘That is probably the most words you have ever said in one sentence.’ 

She threw a toothy smile at him as he shook his head. He thought that Yennefer made him reveal too much about himself but Y/N found his core. She somehow broke through all that he was taught and trained to become to find him. Maybe she was yet to find the abandoned little boy but she was the closest anyone had ever gotten to. 

Geralt threw out a weak ‘hm’ but the smile on his face was evident. He was happy. Whilst he did not know how much time he would spend in the cottage, it was refreshing, and scary, to know that he had somewhere to return to after each hunt. Even scarier, however, is that he had someone to come home to.

*

‘A home? For the nomad? Do we need to call the school of wolves?’ Geralt just let out a disgruntled ‘hm’ and glared at the bard. He reached behind his back and scratched at the skin beside his sword.

Jaskier visibly gulped before letting out a deep breath when he realised that Geralt was not going to stab him. At least not yet. As he regained his composure, Geralt pushed past him into the cottage. ‘Right, well. At least I live to see another day.’

Cirilla laughed behind Jaskier. In spite of his decade’s long friendship with Geralt, the slight fear in his eyes was amusing. When Jaskier turned to glare at her, the laughter only intensified until her sides hurt. ‘Come on, it’s not that funny.’ Jaskier tried to keep a serious face but a smile broke through his mock pout. The princess then walked past Jaskier and into the cottage in a way not dissimilar to the way her father had. 

‘Is this a permanent thing?’ Cirilla’s soft voice broke through the domestic calm inside of the cottage. Geralt had started to make some furniture for the house whilst Y/N prepared the fire. Even despite it being sparse, it reminded them all of the past.

‘Yes. Hopefully.’ Y/N smiled. A soft one that met her eyes. A beginning was what they all needed but it would not be easy. There was much that she had to do before it was truly liveable but they could all make-do. 

Food would have to be an expense as they had no livestock yet, nor did they have any vegetables growing in the garden. It was one of her first tasks and she anticipated to try and buy a chicken or two at the market in the morning. Fresh eggs would do them all well for a while.

She also intended to try to raise some sparrows. It would be helpful for her and Geralt if that were the case. That way she’d have a supply of materials for his potion and it would give her more animals to tend to.  
She missed her cat. The soft tabby brought her much joy and companionship. At one point, it brought more joy than Geralt did. She felt guilty over leaving it but there was no way for her to have brought it with them during their escape. Not knowing how it was made her feel uncomfortable but she knew that the cat had lived on the streets before.

In spite of missing her old cottage, she had one again. Somewhere new. Somewhere she could build a life again. Geralt was beside her and it was all that she really needed. Her family considered of Cirilla and Jaskier too. It was more than enough for her. It was more than she had ever even anticipated.


	10. Chapter 10

*

| one month later |

*

She waited for Geralt. It was his first hunt since he was injured and she was a little uneasy with being alone. It was the first time she had been away from her family in over a month and the silence was uncomfortable. To some degree, the lack of noise was unsettling but it was the loneliness of being completely alone that struck her. She did not have that problem before but a lot had changed since then.

A lot had changed since she first met Geralt. But a lot had stayed the same, too. Whilst her home had changed, she found herself doing many of the same things as she did before she left. The garden was lush and green from the vegetables she planted almost as soon as the cottage was brought and she had gotten some livestock too.

Life had almost returned to normal. It was surreal being with Geralt. Especially after he asked for her hand in marriage. He knew about her want for a normal life. A marriage with children but he could not provide that. Not the children, at least. He was aware that he could never sire a child as he was but he knew that his life was not made for it. Yet he wanted to give her everything she had ever wanted and it would have never been enough to apologise for the pain that he put her through.

*

A week passed without Geralt, Jaskier or Cirilla. She spent a lot of time in the woods to preoccupy herself. Much of that time she spent trying to capture sparrows. After she caught about five, she took them back to her home and tried to breed them. She tried to build nests for them in trees in her garden. It was different to looking after chickens. Very different. But it became a welcomed challenge. A way to keep her mind off of the fear for Geralt. 

Her trips to the market were just as frequent as when Geralt was injured and she became a fairly welcomed local. After the whispers and gossip about her relationship with a Witcher became known, opinions on her were split. Some loved that she was there as if there was ever a monster, they would not have to pay for Geralt’s services whilst the other half wanted her out. She was a freak in their eyes but she did not care. Their opinions did nothing for her and she always sold out of stock at the market. 

At the market, she saw a few sheep on sale for ten marks apiece and could not resist buying them. They were not sheared yet and it was almost warm enough for them to need to lose their wool so she found it to be a wise purchase. She’d have enough wool to make some blankets and clothing which meant that she did not have to purchase them. It was the biggest issue of the new cottage: she had to pay for the things she had in her old one. In spite of the cost of wool brushes and a wheel, it was still much cheaper than constantly buying supplies when she needed them.

*

She had gotten back into a routine without Geralt but old habits were hard to shake off. She still made too much food and left water out for Roach on the off chance that they would return in her sleep. That never stopped her from hoping that they would. She wished for them to come home before she slept like a nightly prayer. Bring them home safe.

*

When she returned from the market the following day, she found a stack of fresh firewood and Roach tied to the front of the cottage. Geralt was back. She pets the horse before entering and finding her family reunited. She was too surprised at their return that she failed to see the cat at the Witcher’s feet. Geralt kissed her as soon as she entered and pulled her into her bedroom to talk.

‘Do you remember when we spoke about children?’ She nodded and Geralt continued. ‘I know of a boy. His mother is going to give him up to the school of Wolves but we can adopt him. I don’t want to put him through what I’ve been through. Can we?’ She was so taken aback. She did not know what to say.

‘Is that legal?’ They had space and the means but she was unsure if it was even possible. Geralt reassured her that there could be no repercussions from doing so and she wanted a child. More than anything. So, she agreed. They had wanted a child for a long time even when Geralt insisted that his life was not cut out for one. Yet he had Cirilla.

‘Thank you.’ Geralt kissed her temple and held her in his arms swaying. ‘I also brought someone who missed you.’ Geralt picked up the cat who followed him wherever he went. The tabby loved the Witcher more than herself and it was evident.

She pets the head of the cat and cooed. ‘I’ve missed you. Hello.’ It meows back and struggled to be put down which Geralt did immediately. It stayed by his feet and curled into his large foot.

‘I will leave this evening to retrieve him.’ She pouted at the idea. She had only just got him back and he was to leave again. ‘I promise it will only be for a few days and I shall not leave for a while after that. He will be taken there by the end of the week if I do not collect him.’

She sighed and relented. They had already somewhat opened an orphanage from their home so another child would do no harm. It also gave her a purpose for the wool from the sheep. A new blanket could be made and some space would be saved too.

*

Geralt returned with a babbling baby. It was only a few months old and cried for hours since being separated from his mother. She took the baby off of Geralt and rocked it in her arms hoping to soothe it.   
She rocked it for hours and sat on a chair trying to calm the boy down. ‘Does he have a name?’ Geralt shook his head in response. ‘We need to name him, Geralt.’ He took the babe from her arms and rocked him, giving her a break.

‘I like Ermion. After Mousesack.’ Waiting for him to elaborate, she looked at him. ‘He was a friend. As close to a friend as I had. A long time ago. He also raised Cirilla.’ She nodded as she spoke and found the name fitting. After a man that raised his first child.

She kissed him and the baby. ‘Hello, Ermion.’ The baby babbled and slowly calmed down. She took the blanket she made for him and wrapped him in it as Geralt doted over the small child.

Nobody slept much as the child screamed and cried. She sat with him by the fire accompanied by Geralt. They took turns in rocking the baby but eventually, all three dozed off by the warmth of the fireplace.

*

| two years later |

*

She was unsure as to why she agreed to have a child. Ermion ran around the house muddy and excited. She loved the boy greatly but he babbled and gurgled as he played with the mud. It made a mess of the home and it was difficult without Geralt. It was his third week away and the cat was growing annoyed with the boy pulling her tail.

No matter how much it hissed and scratched, Ermion failed to understand the message. ‘Come here, baby.’ She picked up her son and kissed his cheek before his muddy hand touched her face. ‘That’s not very nice! Looks like you need a bath.’

As the boy cried, Cirilla helped her boil some water. ‘I can bathe him if you’d like.’ She thanks the princess and hands the small boy off and goes to add more wood to the fire. ‘You look like you need a bit of a break.’ Thanking the princess again, she went off to wash the mud from her face. 

‘Off to Cirilla you go!’ The toddler babbles as he is handed over and continued to cry as he was taken to the bathroom. She mixed the boiling water with some cool water until the temperature was not scalding. 

*

As the princess washed the baby, she prepared dinner and wished for Geralt to return home. It was as if he knew she called for him as Geralt walked into the cottage. She jumped up and kissed him, legs wrapped around his torso. ‘You’re back!’ She kissed him again and then untangled her legs.

‘I’ve missed you.’ She missed the sound of his voice and the feeling of his touch. ‘Where’s Ermion? I have a surprise for him.’ She pointed to the bathroom and followed him there where Cirilla struggled with the toddler. 

‘Papa!’ The toddler’s chubby arms reached out towards the Witcher and Geralt, without care, picked him up. Luckily, the boy was now clean and excited to see his father. ‘Papa!’ Geralt grimaced as his hair was pulled but he was happy to be home.

‘Let’s get you dressed. Papa has a surprise for you.’ Ermion’s face lit up and hurriedly let himself get dressed. Geralt was just as excited as his son but he slowed his walk so the toddler could catch up.

She followed behind them and saw a pony next to Roach. ‘Geralt?’ It was a bit of a warning. Ermion was too small to ride the horse. ‘He’s too young to ride it.’ 

‘I know but they can grow up together.’ Geralt picked Ermion up so he could stroke his horse’s man. ‘Buddy, what do you want to name her?’ Her heart swelled at the sight of her two men enjoying themselves and bonding.

‘Is she mine, Papa?’ The boy looked up at his father with hopeful eyes. Geralt nodded and pet the pony before he went inside and came back out with a dish of water and a carrot for it. He went back and did the same for Roach with Ermion’s help.

‘She needs a name, Ermion.’ The boy does not even take a second before screaming out a name for it. Both of his parents grabbed a horse each and stopped them from getting spooked by a child’s scream. The sound did, however, attract Cirilla and Jaskier.

‘Woach.’ Ermion still struggled to pronounce Roach but it was endearing. She loved just watching him interact with Geralt. He was a good father but he still thought that he was not. ‘Woach!’

‘You can’t name her Roach.’ The boy started to cry as Geralt pointed to his own horse ‘This is Roach. What about Roach two?’ The boy nodded wanting to be just like his father and smiled.

‘Woach two.’ He clapped his chubby hands. ‘Can I wide her?’ They had to explain that the boy was too young and had to look after the horse before she could be ridden. ‘Pwease?’ The boy threw a tantrum when he was refused again not understanding how he could be injured.

*

| five years later |

*

‘Mama look!’ Geralt was holding Roach Two’s reigns as Ermion rode his horse for the first time. Boy and horse grew together and in spite of his fears, Ermion took well to riding. He giggled and laughed as he bounced up and down. ‘Mama!’ He smiled widely before being chastised by Geralt for not keeping his focus.

‘Well done, sweetheart.’ Her heart swelled at the sight. She simply did not expect that to happen. Geralt had changed her life for the better and after all of their trials and tribulations, life had been good. Nilfgaard had fallen a few years prior so she no longer lived in fear.

She was surrounded by her family. She had food on the table and enough sparrows to ensure that Geralt would always come home to her. Never did she expect to be so happy or so loved.


End file.
